More Bits and Bobs
by cjh4ever
Summary: A collection of stories which will feature the whole team and various situations. Ianto gets to experience a new job. Last in this collection.
1. The Name Is

_This is the first of a second collection of short stories covering all characters and all situations. I'll add stories as the muse strikes but first up, the team attend a James Bond lookalike competition .._

**

* * *

****The Name is …**

"Wow."

"What does that mean?" asked Ianto anxiously. He tugged at his jacket, convinced it was not sitting right on his shoulders.

"Ianto, you look … gorgeous. They should have chosen you, not Daniel Craig."

Toshiko was sitting on Ianto's bed, hands tucked beneath her thighs as she gazed at Ianto. He was wearing a black dinner jacket with a white discreetly ruffled shirt, red cummerbund and black bow tie. His shoes, peeping out from beneath his trouser legs, were shining in the overhead light. His hair was brushed until it shone too and he had shaved even more carefully than usual. He looked good enough to eat.

"Don't be daft, Tosh.," he said dismissively. "The fans may have accepted a blond but they'd never accept a Welshman." He turned in front of the wardrobe mirror, twisting to try and see his back view, still tugging at the jacket. It was from a reputable hire shop but he missed the precise fit of his father's tailored suits.

"I'm not. Honestly, you'll win. No doubt about it."

"That's not the purpose of going, Tosh. You know that. It's only a way to get to Peter Fenner." He turned to face her, there was nothing more he could do about the jacket.

"I still think you'll win." She got off the bed and came up to him, stroking a hand over his shoulders and removing a minute piece of fluff. "Got the gun?"

"Uh huh." He opened his jacket to show the shoulder holster and Beretta 418 nestled within. Then he refastened the jacket; the gun barely showed. He looked down at her and smiled. "You look lovely."

Toshiko smiled and gave him a twirl. She was in a floor length sheath dress of vibrant red with a gold dragon writhing round her body accentuating the curves beneath. Its mandarin collar framed her neck and led the eye to the plunging neckline. When she walked, the thigh-high slit in the side showed off her perfect legs and three inch heels.

"You say the nicest things, Mister Bond," she replied in a deep exotic accent. They both laughed, a release for their nerves.

Ianto checked his watch. "Time we were going."

He reached for her silk wrap and carefully put it round her shoulders. She picked up her delicate clutch bag and then slipped her arm through his. They caused quite a stir among the neighbours when they left Ianto's flat and got into his car.

-ooOoo-

The St David's Hotel was awash with light from the many windows as Ianto and Toshiko walked from the car to the entrance. There were other couples dressed as they were all going in the same direction so the Torchwood couple followed them as they took a left through the stunning atrium to the Dylan Thomas Room. After showing their invitations – Toshiko specials – they went inside where more well-dressed people stood around in groups sipping champagne and eating canapés. Toshiko left her wrap with an attendant and the couple walked to the floor to ceiling windows which looked out over the Bay. Ianto snagged a couple of glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and they turned to look round the room.

"Do you see him?" asked Ianto, sipping his drink.

"No. I don't think he's here yet. See that roped off area? I expect that's where he'll come in." He looked over and saw the small separated space around another door.

"I expect you're right. The reports say he likes to make an entrance."

"None of these men looks anything like as good as you," said Toshiko after a moment scrutinising the other men in the room.

"Nonsense."

"It's true. Look at them. I don't know what that guy over there things he looks like." She was gazing at a rotund man with a jacket that barely met across his paunch.

Her eyes continued their perusal of the room and she was the first to see the newcomers enter. They were a striking couple. The woman attracted her attention first because of the classic simplicity of her dress; a knee length black affair that had a fitted bodice, cap sleeves and slightly flared skirt. The scalloped neckline framed a opulent bosom that was enhanced by a huge, diamond pendant resting between her breasts. Her companion was no less eye-catching. He was in a white dinner jacket with black cummerbund and bow tie, a red carnation in his button hole. The Armani suit fitted him like a glove and he reminded Toshiko of Sean Connery in his prime. She nudged Ianto but he had already seen the pair.

"Still think I'll win?" he asked softly as the newcomers drifted in their direction. She did not reply, wanting to say yes but not sure he would in competition with this man.

"Evening," said Jack drawing close, Gwen on his arm. They had both acquired champagne on the walk across the room and sipped it delicately. "Don't you two scrub up well."

"You're not so bad yourself, Jack. And you, Gwen." Ianto eyes were drawn to her neckline, the pendant drew attention to her breasts and while he didn't like to stare but it was hard not to. He focussed on Jack instead and gulped. Maybe he wouldn't look at either of them.

"Is he here?" asked Gwen, aware of Ianto's eyes on her and smiling.

"Not yet. We think he'll come in that way," replied Toshiko, nodding in the direction of the roped off area.

"He'd better get here soon," said Jack, "the judging is supposed to start soon." His jacket had slipped open and Ianto spotted the gun in its holster under his armpit. A Walther PPK automatic. While all the other James Bond wannabes had guns, he doubted that theirs were real, unlike the Torchwood weaponry.

"I think it already has. See the cameras?" Toshiko turned her head to each corner of the room, as if she was merely surveying the room but in actual fact showing the position of the cameras.

The others made the same survey, discreetly, under cover of obtaining more drinks and food. The cameras were set high in the wall and did not draw attention to themselves. Nevertheless, they gave a complete view of the entire room.

"Well spotted, Tosh." Jack smiled at a passing woman who had been eyeing him up and down. She turned away but not before he saw the slight blush on her cheeks. "I wish they'd get on with it."

Jack had to wait another ten minutes before the sponsor of the evening's event appeared. The lights dimmed and the second door opened revealing Peter Fenner with a leggy blonde on each arm. The Torchwood leader studied the man as he stood in the spotlight, enjoying having all eyes on him. Fenner was in his sixties, short, five six maybe, and on the tubby side with a fast receding hairline. He was dressed in an expensive suit but it looked nothing on him, pulling across the excess flesh. The reason he was of interest to Torchwood was his passion for collecting anything alien. He rivalled Henry Parker in the amount he had spent in online auctions and had a number of pieces Jack wanted to get his hands on, and one in particular.

"What a creep," said Gwen.

"Not very prepossessing is he?" agreed Jack.

"Oh I don't know. I think I could ignore his looks for the billions in the bank." Toshiko regarded the man over the rim of her champagne glass.

"Don't think you're his type," commented Jack. smiling down at her. "Not going by his current companions."

-ooOoo-

The time had finally arrived. A bored looking local radio presenter was making the announcements. "And so the moment has come. The winners of the annual James Bond look-alike competition, sponsored by Fenner Associates, this year are," he paused dramatically, "in reverse order. Third, Mr John Reynolds." There was a small ripple of applause as the man, who looked quite convincing, received an envelope from Peter Fenner.

"In second place, Mr Ianto Jones." The Torchwood group applauded enthusiastically as Ianto went forward to receive his prize. He made himself stand up straight and look Fenner right in the eye. The man smiled graciously enough but it did not reach his eyes. This man knew what Torchwood was and why they were at this event.

"And the winner, by unanimous vote, Mr Jack Harkness." Jack shrugged, accepted a kiss from Gwen, then walked forward. He shook Fenner by the hand smiling broadly, pocketed the prize envelope and posed with one hand on the man's shoulder and his gun in the other for the obligatory photographs.

"Mr Fenner," Jack said, still managing to smile for the camera, "you bought an item last week. A purple cone. It's extremely dangerous, could wipe out the whole of Cardiff. I want it in my hands before I leave here tonight."

"Now why would I do that?" replied Fenner, also smiling at the photographers but aware of the gun.

"Because if you don't, I shall march you out of here in front of your guests and take you somewhere no one will find you and beat its location out of you. Your choice." Jack's smile faded and he fixed Peter Fenner with a stare that showed he meant business. With an audible gulp, the man nodded once curtly and walked away. He beckoned to an aide, spoke to him and the man disappeared quickly.

Jack, smiling at the others in the room, returned to his team. "It should be here within the hour. No hard feelings?" he asked Ianto, eyebrows raised.

"None. The better man won."

"Good." Jack leant close. "For my money, you're the Bond I want in my bed tonight." He smiled when Ianto blushed. Jack turned to Gwen, "How about a dance, Ms Cooper?" He held out his hand and the two twirled off, Jack holding her close as they swayed to the slow music.

"Like a dance, Tosh?" asked Ianto.

"Why not." The two took to the floor and danced close although not as close as Jack and Gwen who were now pressed against one another.

Jack was still dancing, with one of the other guests having also given Toshiko a turn on the dance floor, when the aide returned and sidled up to Fenner. The man checked the box the aide held and then waved him towards Jack who saw him coming. With apologies to his partner, Jack returned her to her friends and met the aide.

"From Mr Fenner." Jack took the box and looked inside. The W'narian power pack was inside, still intact.

"Thank you." Jack smiled at the handsome young man and watched as he returned to Fenner's side. He glanced at his team who came to join him. "Time we left."

The four walked from the room without haste, waited for Toshiko to reclaim her wrap and then went out into the atrium and beyond.

-ooOoo-

"Why can't all our missions be like that?" asked Ianto. He was sitting on the shabby couch in the Hub, his jacket off and bow tie loosened. "A very civilised transaction." In his hand he held the envelope he had received as second prize, a cheque for £500 and some free spa treatments at the hotel.

"But where would the excitement be in that? Come on, what compares to the thrill of a good Weevil hunt?" Jack was walking back from his office, a glass of whisky in each hand. He had also removed his jacket.

"Naked hide and side has its moments." Ianto took the proffered glass.

Jack chuckled, sitting on the couch beside his lover. "True. Don't have to put on the monkey suit for that either."

"That's a fabulous suit," commented Ianto. He had inherited his father's eye for a well tailored suit.

"Giorgio made it for me, years ago. He used to look after me when he was with Cerruti and I followed him when he went out on his own." Jack sipped his whisky wondering if it was a good choice of drink after the champagne. He put the glass down on the coffee table and picked up the box he had received from Fenner.

"What is this again?" asked Ianto. He was twirling his whisky glass making the liquid swirl up the sides. He peered into the box which was now open on Jack's lap.

"A W'narian power pack. It has the same power as ten atom bombs of the size that were dropped on Hiroshima."

Ianto whistled, understanding why Jack had wanted it out of Fenner's hands and why he was handling – or rather not handling - it so carefully now. "What do we do with it?"

"We lock it away somewhere safe." He replaced the lid of the fitted box and put it back on the table. "But you'll never get me to tell you where, Mister Bond." He threw up his hands in mock horror.

"Then I'll have to force it out of you, Mister Bond." Ianto leant over and kissed Jack passionately.

"Yes, please."

* * *

_Hope you liked that. Another story will be coming soon._


	2. A Big Fat Problem

_I was watching Partners in Crime from Doctor Who's Season Four and wondered what Torchwood would be doing. This story is what I believe was happening in Cardiff …_

* * *

**A Big Fat Problem**

Research came easily to Gwen Cooper. She enjoyed chasing down facts, cross referencing them and following up anomalies. The amount of information Torchwood had access to made the process more interesting as she could get a full picture of someone's life right down to their bank balance and DVD rentals! Research on companies was a bit more tricky as they tended to cover their tracks, aware that rivals would be looking for any Achilles heel they could find to gain an edge. Nevertheless, Gwen had a fat file of printouts when she approached Jack in his office.

"Time for a word, Jack?" she asked.

"If you can wait 'til I finish reading this." He vaguely waved to a chair, before looking back down at the papers in front of him.

Gwen drew up the chair and sat down putting her file on the edge of the desk. She recognised Owen's scrawl on the report Jack was reading, even upside down the spidery handwriting was impossible to mistake. She crossed her legs and waited patiently. She wasn't in a rush, for once the team had time on their hands to pursue the ordinary and mundane aspects of their job. It was fine for a day or two but if it went on any longer they'd get tetchy and start sniping at one another.

Jack heaved a sigh and initialled the papers. Putting them together tidily, he replaced them in the covering folder and put them in his out-tray. He looked up at Gwen and smiled. She had done something different to her hair today, let it down one side somehow and it looked good. "What can I do for you?"

"I've been doing some research and I wanted to run it past you before I go any further."

"Okay, fire away." He settled back in his chair, leaning it back at an angle.

"Ever heard of Adipose Industries?" He shook his head and she continued. "They're a new company, registered at Companies House just under a year ago. No trace of them before that or of their CEO, a Miss Foster. They make a slimming pill called Adipose, it's been on the market less than a month. The slogan is 'The fat just walks away'."

"I've heard that somewhere," he said, still leaning back, "on TV I think."

"Quite likely, a lot of the consumer affairs programmes have picked up on it and the health shows too. They've been looking into the claims."

"Which are?"

"That if you take one pill a day for three weeks you'll lose all your excess fat. About a kilo a day it seems. No diet, just eat what you want, and no exercise either."

"I don't believe it." Jack was interested now. "Must be a con."

"That's what the TV people thought but while they can't work out why the pill works, they all agree that it does. Everyone who's taken it so far – about a million people, in London mainly – have all lost weight exactly as they've been told they would."

"So if it works, where's the scam?" Jack leant forward, arms on his desk. "Do they charge too much?"

Gwen shrugged, "Seems pretty reasonable to me. Forty five quid for a three week course with a gold pendant thrown in for good measure." She had her file of printouts on her knee now and took one out, handing it to Jack. "Then I found this."

Jack took the printout and read a scientific analysis of the pill and of the tests claimed by Adipose Industries to show its effectiveness. "So the test results are fake; it is a con. Who did this?" He waved the printout in his hand.

"_The Observer_. One of their reporters, Penny Carter, is doing an investigative piece on the pills and Tosh got me into her PC. Lots of stuff there." She patted the file. "I'd like to look into this myself, see what I can find."

Jack raised himself on his hands and peered at her over the desk. He blatantly ran his eyes over her body.

"What the hell are you doing!?" she demanded. It really did feel like he was undressing her with his eyes.

"Just checking. If you lost, what was it, a kilo a day for three weeks you'd waste away. So why are you so interested?" He sat back in his chair, a grin on his face. It was good to unsettle her occasionally.

"Well, obviously I wasn't interested for myself," she began, not meeting his gaze. He waited, eyebrows raised. "Oh, all right, it's Brenda!" She looked disgusted with herself and thumped the file back on the desk to relieve her frustration at being found out.

"Who's Brenda?"

"Rhys' mam. She's got hold of some, don't ask me how but where miracle diet pills are concerned that woman could give the KGB a run for their money! She was going on and on about them last night, when we had dinner over there. Drove me round the twist, she did."

Jack was laughing now. "Poor Gwen, mother-in-law troubles and you're not even married."

"She's never liked me, not good enough for her little boy. But that's not it, I don't want to stop her taking them if they work. It's just too good to be true. Made me think, that was all." She paused then grinned herself. "And you're right, if I can find out they're ripping her off it'll make my day!"

"I don't see what it has to do with Torchwood but we're pretty quiet right now. If you want to spend the time, go ahead. Just make sure it doesn't interfere with your other work." He picked up his pen and the top file from his in-tray. "And now, if you don't mind, I have to get through these before Ianto will give me any more coffee." He pulled a face and opened the file.

"You are so hard done by, Jack Harkness." She laughed as she stood, picked up her file and left the office.

-ooOoo-

Gwen continued her research into Adipose over the following couple of days, fitting it around some minor excursions into the field when the Rift let something through. She monitored Penny Carter's PC and saw her note about a Press Conference on the 15th and thought she might attend herself. It would mean a trip to London and she hadn't been there for ages, could get a bit of shopping done too if she timed the trains right. In the event she didn't make it; a nest of Weevils was discovered in the cellar of an old, long abandoned house and she had to help contain it. She didn't mind missing the trip, she intended to check Penny Carter's notes on the Press Conference instead.

On the 16th, Ianto drew her attention to the _Dark Talk_ website. "You may want to look at this, Gwen," he called to her as she passed his desk in the Hub. "Could have something to do with Adipose." He swivelled his monitor round.

"What the heck is that?" The monitor showed grainy, black and white video images of small white … blobs walking up a residential street in London. They looked like bags of flour on legs and with arms. The blobs went past the CCTV camera which had captured the images.

"According to _Dark Talk_, those are living beings that come out of people's homes in the early hours of the morning and are picked up in black Adipose vans before being taken to a secret location. And there are some in Cardiff." He changed the image and a lone blob could be seen walking aimlessly down a street. "That was supposedly taken last night, in Butetown."

"That is weird," she said slowly, watching the strangely cute blob. "Could we trace this?" She pointed to the blob.

"We could try." Ianto smiled, happy to have something to do other than make coffee and file papers. "Leave it with me."

"Thanks, Ianto." She smiled and moved on, humming a non-descript tune.

-ooOoo-

Two hours later, Gwen and Ianto were creeping through the overgrown garden of an empty house in Butetown. It was the middle of the day and they were hot from pursuing the little blob from the last place Ianto could pinpoint it. If they didn't find it within the next ten minutes, Gwen was giving up.

"Gwen, I've found it," came Ianto's voice. He was speaking quietly and moving slowly so as not to spook the creature.

She moved to his side and looked down at the blob. And that's just what it was, a squarish white blob with little arms and legs and, she noticed with a grin, a single tooth. As they watched, the blob saw them and smiled and waved; it wasn't frightened at all. Gwen looked at Ianto and saw he was smiling too. Compared with the other aliens they met, this one was going to be a doddle to capture and take back to the Hub.

"Come here, little one," crooned Ianto, holding out a hand to the blob. It twisted it's top half and seemed to look at him quizzically then smiled again and waddled forward towards the Welshman. Ianto used both hands to pick it up, surprised to find it was warm to the touch.

Gwen tentatively put out a hand and stroked the creature. "We'd better get it back. See what Owen makes of it."

Owen had an audience when he was running scans and tests on the blob, or Snowy as Ianto had named it. He couldn't explain why that name, just that it seemed like the right one. Ianto was in the well of the Medical Bay with Owen, assisting with the equipment now Owen had broken fingers. Above them, the rest of the team were leaning on the railing watching what was going on.

"Come on, Owen, what have you got?" pressed Jack impatiently.

"Hold your horses, just one more." He was checking the reading on a monitor while Ianto put away some equipment they had already used.

"Ianto, Snowy's going to fall!" cried Toshiko in alarm.

She was enchanted with Snowy and had happily held it earlier while Owen and Ianto were performing their scans. The little creature was inquisitive, wanting to look at everything. Ianto turned but could not reach the examination bed before Snowy stepped off. Looking down, they were all relieved and surprised when it landed on its feet and waddled off to investigate some more.

"Oh no, you don't," said Ianto chasing after it and picking it up. "Back up here, if you don't mind." He put it back on the examination bed and stood guard in case it tried to get off again.

"It's okay, Ianto. Don't need to look at it any more," said Owen, turning to the waiting team. "Well, it's exactly one kilo of fat. Normal, disgusting human fat." He looked at their stunned faces.

"Fat?" queried Gwen. Beside her Toshiko surreptitiously wiped her hands on the sides of her trousers; she'd been handling fat.

"That's what I said. Fat, with just a trace of an alien substance that, I guess, gave it life."

"That's disgusting," said Jack, walking down the steps. He stopped by the bed and picked up the creature viewing it from all angels. "Is it sentient?"

"Depends what definition you use. It doesn't feel pain and I can't find any trace of brainwaves but," he shrugged, "it does respond to people and it does seem curious. Whether that's all it will ever do or whether it develops as it matures, I don't know."

"The claims for the Adipose pill is that it will make people lose a kilo of weight of day," pointed out Gwen. "Is that what someone lost?"

"But how? Lost weight doesn't emerge from the body and walk away," protested Toshiko.

"The fat just walks away!" chorused Jack and Gwen together then laughed.

"What?" asked Owen, looking from one to the other.

"That's Adipose's slogan, 'The fat just walks away'," explained Gwen. "They mean it literally."

"So all those Snowys walking down that street in London were weight people had lost that day?" queried Ianto.

"Looks like it."

"But why?"

"That is the question, my dear Jones." Jack put Snowy back on the bed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "You've stumbled onto something here, Gwen. I think we'll take a trip to London tomorrow and take a look at Adipose Industries."

-ooOoo-

That evening Jack and Ianto were relaxing on the sofa in the Welshman's flat. They had mugs of coffee in their hands and Ianto switched on the TV using the remote. "Just see the news headlines," he said before settling back against Jack.

"It'll only be war and destruction," said the older man, sipping his drink. "Do you know there hasn't been a year this century or last when there wasn't a war in some part of the world. You people are determined to wipe yourselves out. I mean –"

"Shut up, Jack. Look."

Ianto pointed to the screen where a breaking news story showed hundreds of Snowys walking through the streets of London and then being beamed up in shafts of light to a hovering spaceship. Jack was sitting forward, drink forgotten as he listened to the commentary.

"_.. outside the headquarters of Adipose Industries. So far there are is only one reported casualty. Miss Foster, the CEO of the company, was seen to fall from one of the beams of the light. These incredible scenes are being linked to earlier disturbances at various locations around the capital when overweight people were said to be writhing as their bodies contorted. Unconfirmed reports say that these … creatures emerged. We now go to …"_

Jack's mobile rang and he reached for it. "Yeah."

"_Jack, are you watching the news?"_ came Gwen's voice. She was sitting with Rhys watching open-mouthed as the scenes played out on the screen in front of them. _"There's millions of them." _

"I see it. We were right but someone else seems to have acted before us. Spooked them enough to pull out."

"_UNIT?" _

"Don't think so. They'd have shot that spacecraft down by now." Jack thought the events had all the hallmarks of The Doctor. It gave him a warm glow to think they might have been working on the same problem. "Have you checked with your mother-in-law to be? Is she okay?"

"_Oh my God, Brenda! Gotta go, Jack. See you in the morning."_ She ended the call.

"See you." Jack smiled as he closed his mobile. "I won't be going to London after all," he said to Ianto, leaning back in the couch and reaching an arm round the young man. "So that means we can have a lie-in." The two men kissed gently, looking forward to a night of love.

* * *

_Let me know what you thought of this one. Something a bit different next time ..._


	3. Unrequited Love

_A story of unrequited love involving Tosh .._

* * *

**Unrequited Love**

The love of my life is dead. Here I am at her funeral, sitting way back because while I loved her she never felt anything more for me than friendship. Certainly didn't know I feel the way I do. I never told her.

The first time I saw her was at the site of a meteorite landing, up in the woods. She was beautiful and fair took my breath away. Didn't know who she was then, of course, just that she had gorgeous legs, always been a sucker for a great pair of legs I have. Unfortunately I couldn't get close to her. The Army only used us to set up the telecoms link then kept us away from the action, told us to stay in the van so we did. No point arguing with the squaddies, they have guns and some of them look like they're dying to use them. She appeared with her mates and strode off to where the thing had landed. They were gone ages then they strode back, through the Army boys and into their big, black van. I managed to get out of our van to watch, told the squaddie guarding us I had to take a leak, and even memorised the number plate numbskull that I was then. No other vehicle like it in Cardiff, hardly needed the number.

Saw the van a few times, whizzing round the streets of Cardiff but my second sighting of her was when I was round Pete's. Could have knocked me down with a feather when I saw that big van parked in the road and then she appeared, with her mates again, coming out of the house opposite. Some party going on there, according to Pete, and I thought she must have been invited but not so sure now. Apparently the bloke that lived there killed his partner's daughter, Jasmine, and then killed himself. The papers were full of it for days afterwards. Seems he was abusing the kid for months beforehand. Anyway, I was leaving Pete's when I saw the van so I followed it or tried to; the bloke in the coat that was driving went off like a bloody racing driver and left me in the dust. Gonna have to get a better set of wheels.

Actually got to speak to her the third time. She was in the new club off St Mary's Street all on her own, no mates this time. Looked a bit pissed off so I thought I'd try my luck. She turned me down but I did get to hear her voice and see her smile. Such a lovely face when she smiles and nice tits too, hadn't noticed them before, too intent on her legs I suppose. I took her at her word, didn't press her, just retreated back to the bar and sipped my pint with the occasional glance in her direction. Suppose I was hoping she would change her mind but she was waiting for someone after all, a blonde girl, hard looking with a skirt barely covering her arse. Great legs though. They stayed for a while and I could see there was no point hanging around so I left after the second pint. Curry and the TV beckoned.

It was months before I saw her again. A fleeting glimpse in Mermaid Quay first. I was working in the Millennium Centre, installing a new line, and had come out for a coffee and a sandwich. It was a nice enough day, bit nippy but after being inside all morning it was good to get some fresh air. Was sitting on the steps, minding my own business, when she's there. She walked by the Centre, didn't see where she came from, and round the corner. By the time I realised it was her she was gone and when I got to the corner she was nowhere in sight. And then a second glimpse at the old Ritz dancehall. Saw the van first but couldn't hang about as the bloke wanted his 'phone line rigged up pronto. Did it in double quick time and managed to get back to see her come out of the place with the bloke in the coat and the other woman, the one with the gappy teeth, and drive off. She looked gorgeous, my girl not the gappy teeth one. Had on a short skirt or maybe a dress. Those legs are so shapely. God knows what they'd been doing in the Ritz, old dump it is. Went in once, year or so back, when Joe and me found a back door open. Just dust and rubbish and a bad paint job. Shame, bet it was nice in its day.

Second time I spoke to her was in the hospital. I was having a check-up, ingrowing toenail though I'd told my mates it was more serious - don't want them getting the wrong idea. There was some kind of a flap on in one wing, all cordoned off and people in those spacesuits thingies, like they wear in films when there are epidemics. She had one on, one of the spacesuits, and I wouldn't have recognised her except she took her helmet off and shook out her hair. God, I remember that still. Reminded me of another film, _Charlie's Angels_, when Drew Barrymore does the self-same thing. Anyway, she stood, my girl not Drew, in the corridor and stared before some bloke shouted at her. Rude lout he was, he may have been the short one who rides in the black van sometimes. Anyway, I was on my way down to reception after getting my toe sorted and she gets in the lift with me. Just her, not the rude bloke, and I guess she's dumped him – I know I would. So I says hello, remind her we met in the club and she smiles again. Looks a bit distracted but we get talking, nothing much just how slow the lift is, that sort of thing. But I learnt her name, it's Toshiko. Isn't that just a beautiful name? Toshiko. It suits her.

Had a good chat to her next time, over a cup of coffee. I was manning a stall at the Technofair and in she comes. She was interested in our new optic cabling and I persuaded Sue to stay at the stall while I took Toshiko for a coffee. We had a lovely time, a whole half hour, together. She wanted to discuss the cabling and I didn't mind, at least I was with the girl of my dreams. The closer I get to Toshiko the more I like her and not just for her looks. She knows a hell of a lot about telecoms, more than me, and I had the feeling she was indulging me when she let me explain the finer points of our new stuff. She probably knew all about it already though God knows how, it's not on the market yet. When she said she had to go I got the feeling she was happier than when we started talking, she'd seemed a bit down. I asked her out, for a drink, but she turned me down. Nicely though, like before, and I still have hopes. Maybe I'll be able to wear her down.

Was disappointed next time I saw her. She was with a bloke, tall and good looking, quite young too. They were down by the Norwegian Church - and she kissed him. My Toshiko kissed another bloke. You'd think I'd be mad but I wasn't, surprised myself when I was only disappointed. In fact I was happy for her, happy she had found someone. It wasn't as if I'd been a saint since I'd seen her that first time. I'd been on plenty of dates and got laid a few times. Had a bit of thing going with Tracy around then so I couldn't complain if Toshiko had a bloke too. I watched them as they larked about and don't know if was wishful thinking or not but I didn't think she was as keen on him as he was on her. Never saw them together again anyway.

Came across her in a coffee shop a couple of weeks later. I was just off work and she was by herself again and I thought I'd try talking to her, she could only tell me to get lost. Had a lovely time with her that night. She was down at first but seemed she wanted to be entertained, to have someone around. We had a couple of coffees then shared a pub meal. Tried to get her to talk but she didn't say much about herself or her job, figured it was that which had got her down so didn't press it. Told her about the daft stuff me and Tony get up to and she laughed, she's got a lovely laugh. We ended up in a club, lots of loud music and writhing bodies. Boy, can she dance! She was shaking it about and we were having a great time. Stayed there until it shut and then walked her back home, hand in hand. She didn't ask me in and I didn't press for it. A quick kiss in the doorway was all I got but it was worth it. Oh yes, it was worth it.

Called her after that and arranged to take her for a meal but she never showed. I called again and she apologised, said work was frantic. Must be to keep her at her desk all night. Not sure if I believed her, didn't seem quite right. I reckon she wasn't over that bloke I'd seen her kissing but didn't ask. We did have another drink together later that week but she was quiet again, not the jack-in-the-box dancer who had bopped the night away. She asked a few strange questions about the previous couple of days, had we met and what did we do. Almost like she couldn't remember. Weird. Walked her home again and her kisses made up for the weirdness, she was one great kisser.

Next week I spotted her again. I was called out that night to fix a fault at the Pharm, weird place where they test drugs and such. Tony and me were working away happily when all hell breaks loose and we're locked in. Stuck we were, for an hour or more, then some security guy comes and lets us out so we can get on with our work. We were finished and packing up when I spot more shenanigans at the front of the house. Alarms went off then and we had to hustle to be gone, didn't want to be locked in again. Joined a crowd of people who had been evacuated and there she was with her mates. And one of them was shot! Really, shot right in front of our eyes. It was the short, rude one. The bloke in the coat shot the bloke that did it, right between the eyes. Nifty bit of shooting. Tony grabbed my arm and bundled me into the van and drove off, didn't want to get caught up in an investigation or anything, got a record has Tony, so I don't know what she did then. I checked the news and the papers but there was nothing about the shooting. Just reports of a containment breach that had resulted in flooding the place with gas. Won't be able to use it for years apparently. Weird that no one picked up on the shootings though.

I didn't see Toshiko for a couple of weeks after that though she answered my texts. Just blamed work for not being able to meet. I wanted to talk to her, not just because she is seriously gorgeous but because I saw the bloke that was killed. The short, rude one was in a club large as life and drinking like it was going out of fashion when the bloke in the coat – he's the boss apparently – shows up and they get in a fight and are carted off in a police car. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I spotted the dead one walking about.

And it wasn't just the once. I saw him again, up at the Parker mansion. Sad old sod that Henry Parker, like that bloke Howard Hughes he is, locked himself away and never comes out. Tony and me were sent in to sort out a power failure that affected the 'phone lines one night and who do I spot but the dead guy. Tony was in the van and so he didn't see him, said I was making it up, but I swear I saw him. We fixed the lines up and then one of the security guys, big bloke, says we won't be needed any longer as old man Parker had died. Started me wondering if the dead guy had anything to do with it but Tony told me I was daft. He's probably right.

My last night with Toshiko was the best and the worst. It was just three weeks ago. She called me, said she needed a night on the town and asked me if I was up for it. As if! 'Cos I was. I did it all just right. Picked her up from her place and even remembered to take some flowers, a mixed bunch from the supermarket. She laughed when she found I'd left the price on. Not nasty, just like it was a mistake anyone could make. She looked stunning that night in a lovely top and skirt that showed off her tits and her legs. We had a meal in one of the joints round Mermaid Quay and I met one of her mates. He doesn't go out with the rest of them much, just occasionally, so I hadn't seen him often. Ianto was his name, nice bloke. He sat and had a chat but moved on before he outstayed his welcome. He'd come to get some takeaway and go back to work. The coat bloke sure makes them work hard.

The film we went to see was a bit strange but Tosh, that's what Ianto called her and I like it, wanted to see it. I didn't mind what was on the screen as long as it was dark and I could put my arm round her. She let me but she didn't move closer or anything. I'd have liked her to put her head on my shoulder but no such luck. Once the film was over we went for a drink in a club. There was dancing and everything but she didn't want to join in, just happy to sit and watch. It was pretty clear she didn't really want to be there so I said I wanted to leave and we got out. On the walk back to her place I finally asked her about the dead bloke. Said I'd seen him shot but then he was walking about. That shook her up, stopped stone dead in the middle of the pavement she did, and looked at me. She told me he wasn't killed, just injured and that he was okay now. I was going to argue, no one takes a shot to the chest and is running round a couple of days later, but I didn't. Tosh has lots of secrets – I still know nothing about her or her family or about her job – and I love her too much to pry.

That's when she told me that she loves the dead guy. Suppose I shouldn't call him that anymore, I mean he can't be dead if he's walking around. His name is Owen. It was a blow, can't pretend it wasn't, I'd thought Tosh and me were getting closer, might have a future. She'd never thought that, had been pining for this other guy. It was hard, standing there hearing her say how much she needed a friend like me to talk to, while all I wanted to do was tell her I would be better for her but I didn't. I wanted to be her friend. You don't meet people like Tosh every day and even if it was only a drink sometime that would be better than nothing. We had coffee at her place, just coffee, like mates would. I almost told her then, about all the times I'd seen her before we finally met but I decided it was better not to. She didn't want to listen to me bleating on. I certainly didn't tell her I'd loved her since the first time in the woods.

I wish I had now.

A week later, when I'd not got any replies to my texts I'd given up on her. Assumed she had hooked up with the dead … with Owen and didn't want to see me anymore. Then Ianto shows up at my place, just as I get in from work. Never did find out how he knew where I lived and didn't think to ask, not once he'd told me, told me she was dead. An accident at work, that's all he'd say but he looked pretty cut up about it. He wanted me to know. I held it together until he left then I bawled like a baby. Stupid bugger, I just cried and cried. She'd got under my skin and I loved her more than anyone else in all my thirty one years.

Got a text from Ianto about the funeral and that's why I'm here, sitting at the back all on my tod though there's only a few other people here anyway. There's people who must be her family and her mates from work - but not Owen. If that rude sod dumped her or hurt her I'll kill him myself and make sure he stays dead this time. The Service is almost over now and I'm going. Don't want any awkward questions and anyway, I want to remember her as she was, not see her box put in the ground.

Maybe I'll come back some time, put some flowers on her grave. I'll remember to take the price off this time.

I loved her and she never knew.

* * *

_So? Comments gratefully received …_


	4. Ghosts

_This is set in the days after Ianto's return from suspension after Cyberwoman, told from his point of view._

* * *

**Ghosts**

They aren't talking me to me again so I've come down here where I can forget, if only for a while. I hate being here. I hate being so alone. I hate hurting all the time. And most of all I hate the fact that I have nothing else.

What's this? Another artefact that has been misplaced. Good, that's something I can do and justify staying out of the way. This one looks to be Verron. Perhaps one of their soothsayers visited here and left it. They seem to get everywhere, those soothsayers. Torchwood One had loads of Verron stuff, most of it left to moulder on shelves. They had no interest in anything that was not a weapon or could not be turned into one. I thought so, this is a Verron musical instrument. Better enter it on the database. There, done.

Now what? I am not going to go back upstairs yet. I don't need Owen's filthy looks to tell me I'm not wanted. Nor Gwen never meeting my gaze. Tosh tries but even she couldn't face me today. I don't know what to do about it. Jack says I should give them time but how much? What's it going to take for them to forgive me? Who am I kidding, they're never going to do that. I'm the one who betrayed the team and almost got them killed.

Here are some files in the wrong place. Who put files with titles starting with 'G' among the 'S's? They have had some seriously weird archivists in this place over the years. No, that's presuming too much. Cardiff never employed archivists, I'm convinced of that given the state of the records when I got here. Right, these files. Go'dillop. What's that when it's at home? Ah, I see, a race of beetles who swarmed over Cardiff thirty two years ago. Let's hope we never see them again. And the next file?

Oh no. Just when I think matters can't get any worse they do.

Ghosts.

But they weren't ghosts. Everyone saw them and rationalised them away as ghosts. The dead returning to comfort their loved ones. Some hope!

Bloody Torchwood One!

Bloody Yvonne Hartman!

Shall I read the file? Do I want to? Dare I? Shouldn't have thought that, never could refuse a dare. That's how I got nicked. 'Dare you to steal that sweater from Top Shop', that was all Huw had to say. Next thing I'm nicked and in court and then in gaol. Bloody fool. But the file, can I refuse to open it? Of course I can't. Not many papers. Not much here at all. Let's start at the beginning.

Okay, report from Suzie about the first appearance. She thought it was fishy then. Had a good nose for something being wrong, did Suzie. Shame she turned into a murderer. What's this? Jack's scribble, can't mistake that handwriting. _"Spoke to Yvonne. She says okay but I doubt it. See what you can find out."_ So, Jack thought it was wrong too. Good for him. He may be a maverick but he shows good sense at times. And here's Suzie's next report. _'Analysis of the manifestation shows it's not ghosts. Definite signs of alien presence.'_ Well done, Suzie. Oh, now this is interesting. Jack went to London to speak to Yvonne. Beard the lion in her den, eh? Long report, he didn't just talk to her also spoke to … Bernie Thorpe! Well, well, well. Bernie the Bonce was a mole for Jack, was he? Would never have thought it, he was always sticking up for Yvonne. She liked him too, those in the know said they were having an affair. Which, I suppose, made him the perfect mole.

Oh no.

The report is so clear. Jack has written it in his own hand, there's no disputing it. He knew that the ghosts were bogus, that Yvonne was in danger of letting loose a danger on the whole world. Why didn't he do something about it!? Why did he come back to Cardiff and sit on his arse!? He could have saved them all. All my friends. The innocents. Lisa.

Do I want to read any more? No, not yet. That day was the worst of my life. Worse than when Tad died. Worse than that first night locked up in gaol. Worse than Lisa's recent rampage through the Hub. It started so normally. Into work, sit at my desk, check the e-mails, deal with the requests for artefacts and files. Package them up and send them out. Nothing difficult, nothing out of the ordinary. Until all hell breaks loose and the place is a war zone. Terror, that's what I remember most. Sheer, bloody terror as those creatures – the Cybermen – started rounding up people and converting them. I hid. No heroics for me, leave that to the others. And it worked. I survived – they didn't. Walking round the place afterwards, before the rescue services converged on the building. Finding Lisa.

I don't think I want to remember any more.

More from Suzie in the file. Reports of more ghost sightings and … what's this? Jack back in London again, meetings with the Prime Minister and UNIT chief, telling them of his concerns about Yvonne and the ghosts. Oh, that is not nice. Jack told off in no uncertain terms. I can't believe it! Stupid bloody politicians, what was the PM thinking!? Sharing Jack's concerns with Yvonne and telling her who raised them. He must have been mad! Hold on, how did Suzie get hold of these records from No. 10? Of course, this has Tosh's fingerprints all over it. No surprise Yvonne was mad, insisting Jack resign, step down from Torchwood Three before she sacked him. Oh that's nice. Yes, that's very nice. She may have been a murderer but she was loyal, I'll say that for Suzie. No, I was wrong, it was all of them. They all threatened to walk if Jack was removed. That is loyalty 'cos Torchwood One's reach was long. They'd never have got another decent job in this country.

Maybe I understand a bit better now. They were forged into a team by Canary Wharf and the pressures on Jack. Then I come along, a refugee from the same Torchwood One that threatened them. No wonder they saw me as an outsider and left me to myself most of the time. Not that I encouraged any other kind of response, I was too busy in the basement. Too busy planning to betray them. How the hell did Jack stop them and himself from blowing my brains out? Perhaps it would have been better if they had then I wouldn't hurt like this. I would be at peace, like Lisa. I would be with Lisa.

I still could be.

No, I don't want that.

Wow, I only just realised that I don't want to die. Life may be a bitch but I am not letting go of it, not yet. I want to show them, show Jack in particular, that I'm not going to be tossed around by circumstances any more. I can make my own way, make a difference by my actions, not just my inactions. Make a contribution here. And it starts now. No more running away when it gets tough, when the others pass comment or throw me a dirty look. I'm stronger than that. I'm going to show them that while I regret what happened, I did what I did for a good reason and I am not ashamed of it. I made a mistake in loving too deeply, too well but that's all. I am not ashamed to be alive.

Okay, those are good thoughts now go and put them into action.

Put this file away first, in the right place this time. Lay the ghosts to rest.

* * *

_Thanks for the reviews so far, they are much appreciated._


	5. Let Me Help

_This takes place post Small Worlds. Jack and Ianto clear Estelle Cole's house._

* * *

**Let Me Help**

The hire van was a sod to drive and Ianto took every corner slowly and carefully, convinced the vehicle would go over on its side. He spotted the SUV about halfway down Plymouth Road and sighed in relief; almost there. He pulled up behind it, glad there was such a convenient parking spot. Getting out, he looked around at the Victorian, or maybe Edwardian, houses admiring their regimented ranks. He liked symmetry and order. He rang the doorbell and waited, wondering idly why the house was called Glengarry. When the door opened he smiled slightly. "Sir, I brought the van, as you requested."

"Thanks." Jack held his hand out for the keys. He looked tired as he stood in the doorway, hair disarrayed and a smudge of dirt across one cheek.

"Would you like some help? I have nothing else to do right now."

Jack considered for a moment then nodded and led the way to the back of the house. Ianto closed the door and followed him down the narrow hall to the kitchen. On the way, Ianto saw empty boxes and piles of possessions in the rooms he passed.

"Looks like you're making progress, sir," observed Ianto. More boxes greeted him in the kitchen.

"Actually, I'm not doing so well," Jack admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"Then let me help."

"Okay. First, I need a coffee. Stuff's over there." Jack pointed to the side. "I'll get the mugs."

Ianto went to the coffee machine and began making coffee. He wondered if that was the reason Jack had kept him on after … Lisa. In the few days he had been back at work, Ianto had done little except clear up the Hub, keep an eye on the monitoring programs, sort out the archives – again! – and make coffee. Only once or twice had he been asked to do anything else and he was bored out of his mind. He had not realised how much of his time had been taken up in caring for Lisa. Now he had time on his hands when all he craved was diversion to keep his mind off his pain.

He poured the coffee into the mugs and handed one to Jack who sat at the table and sipped it gratefully, not speaking. Ianto stayed where he was and sipped his own drink, looking round at the well-appointed kitchen and out of the window, the broken one he had arranged to be replaced, at the garden. He was startled out of his introspection when something brushed against his leg. He looked down to see a black and while cat and bent to stroke it.

"Oh yeah," said Jack, watching the other man, "we've got to find a home for the cat."

"He's lovely," replied Ianto, liking the feel of the soft fur and the sound of purring. "What's his name?"

"God knows! Oh, that's right, Moses," Jack said with a smile.

"Well hello, Moses," said Ianto, still stroking the animal. "I'll find somewhere to take him," he offered, standing upright again.

"Great. Right now, we have more urgent problems. We have to clear the house." Jack swallowed the last of his coffee, feeling better for the shot of caffeine.

He had been at the house all night. His first priority had been to find and remove all photographs, letters and other reminders of his relationship with Estelle. That had taken longer than he had estimated. Every item he had found, and there had been a fair number, brought back memories of happy times and taken him back to the man he had been then. He had loved Estelle and if the War had not intervened he would have been tempted to marry her. But separation and the reminder of his immortality had forced him to abandon the idea. He had not felt like that about anyone else since and he wondered now if he had made the right choice; perhaps she would have been able to accept him. But now it was too late. She was dead, like all the others he had loved for a time and then lost.

"Sir?" Ianto looked at Jack who had not answered his question. "I said, where do you want me to start?"

"Sorry, Ianto. If you could start in here. We need to remove all the personal stuff. As we're going to keep the place as a safe house, at least for a while, the furniture and appliances can stay."

"Ms Cole didn't have any relatives, then?" Ianto opened a drawer and methodically looked through the contents.

"No, they were all dead. She left the place to me," admitted Jack. It had surprised him when he'd found her will and made him wonder if perhaps she had known all along that he was the Jack Harkness she had loved and lost seventy years earlier.

"To you?" Ianto was surprised. "I hadn't realised you knew her personally, sir. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks." Jack was so tempted to tell Ianto the truth, to confide in him as he had in Gwen on the night they'd found Estelle. The feeling surprised Jack; why would he want to confide in this boy who had betrayed him? He pushed the thought to one side. "If you need more boxes, there are some in the SUV. I'll start upstairs."

"Okay."

The two men got stuck into their tasks. Jack blanked his mind as he packaged up Estelle's life. Her possessions were going into storage in the same block of lock ups Torchwood had used for years. They needn't be kept for as long, or indeed at all, but Jack couldn't face the task of sorting what might be saleable or useful from the rest. Better to just put it away and forget about it, at least for now.

Downstairs, Ianto had finished in the kitchen. He put down food and milk for Moses who went to it gratefully. Obviously Jack had not thought to feed the animal. Ianto wondered whether he might keep the cat himself. He had always liked pets. A dog was out of the question – he couldn't be sure of having time to exercise it – but a cat was different. A cat could look after itself. He thought he might try it, just for a few days. If it didn't work out he could find Moses a permanent home later. Moving into the living room, Ianto saw the table was covered in items to do with the occult: stones, crystals and feathers amongst them. He collected them together and packaged them carefully, together with ornaments and other small items.

He went to the books next and looked at the titles as he moved them into boxes. Lots more on the occult with a few modern novels and some classics. He flicked through one or two on the occult, wondering if they might throw any light on the faeries, and a photograph which had been used as a bookmark fell out. Curious he saw it was of a young woman and … Jack. Flicking it over, he read on the back, 'Jack and me, Swansea – 1938'. Ianto put it to one side, his mind trying to process the information. How could Jack have been in a photograph from seventy years ago? And yet … There were those odd references to Jack in the archives. Only one or two admittedly but it did make one think …. He brushed aside the thought for another time and got on with packing up the books.

It was about a hour later that Jack came down the stairs carrying some boxes. He dumped them in the hall and went to find Ianto who still had the keys of the van. He looked in the living room and immediately spotted the photograph of him and Estelle on the side table. He snatched it up and put it in his pocket, wondering if Ianto had seen it or if he, Jack, had left it there inadvertently. He hoped it was the latter. He heard the front door open and went back into the hall; Ianto was coming in.

Jack looked at the boy, really looked, and liked what he saw. Ianto had removed his suit jacket, his tie was pulled loose and his hair was tousled, perhaps from the wind outside. He was a good-looking guy but Jack dampened his lust. There could never be anything between them. Ianto had betrayed Jack and Torchwood while he, Jack, had killed the love of Ianto's life. They could never overcome that no matter how much Jack would like to try, could they?

"There you are. I need the van keys." Jack held out a hand and Ianto put the keys in it.

"I've put some boxes in there already," said the Welshman. "I'll carry on in here." He went into the living room and continued emptying cupboards. He noticed immediately that the photograph had been removed and there was only one person who could have done that. His earlier suspicions were confirmed, Jack had been around for a very long time. Should he say anything? Ianto decided not, his position was still too precarious to take unnecessary risks.

After clearing Estelle's bedroom, Jack found the other rooms on the upper floor easier and quicker to deal with; there were fewer personal items. He bundled up everything in the boxes and black sacks and periodically took them down to the van. He met Ianto doing the same once or twice but otherwise the two men continued to work separately. When Jack had cleared all he could find, he went downstairs feeling hungry and thirsty. As he passed the front door the bell rang and he answered it.

"Pizza for Jones."

"Sorry, sir, thought you might like something to eat," said Ianto coming up the hall from the kitchen. He stood next to Jack and paid the delivery boy taking the two pizza boxes from him.

"Can you read minds?" asked Jack, closing the door. He smiled at the young man.

"I don't think so, sir. Why, do you need me to?"

"No. I was just thinking I could do with something to eat and … _voila!"_ He gestured to the pizzas.

"Coincidence, sir. The coffee must be almost ready." Ianto turned and walked to the kitchen where he put the pizza boxes on the table and went to the coffee machine.

Jack sat at the table and checked the pizzas: meat feast and Hawaiian. Knowing the former was for him, he grabbed a slice and bit into it, enjoying the taste. Ianto set down the coffee mugs and joined Jack at the table. He took his pizza and delicately bit off a piece, chewing carefully. They ate in silence, neither needing to speak. Jack wondered about this. Why did the boy make him feel comfortable? It was odd, very odd.

"Is everything all right at the Hub, sir?" asked Ianto, before taking a sip of coffee.

"Don't know. They're still not talking to me." He rolled his eyes and demolished the last of his pizza.

"I'm sure they'll come round." Jack didn't respond; they may speak to him again but he doubted they'd ever forgive him. "Would you like me to check in with them?"

"No. If they need me – us – they can ask." Moses appeared and sat under the table, his tail twitching. Jack bent and stroked him.

"If it's all right, sir, I thought I might take Moses home with me." Ianto bent and gave the cat a piece of his pizza.

Jack looked up at him. "You want a cat?" he asked, surprised.

"I like animals and a cat would be most suitable. If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," replied Jack, sitting up again. "I didn't have you pegged as an animal lover, that's all."

Ianto shrugged and said nothing, his expression suddenly closed. This was just another example of how little his colleagues knew him. Or maybe, he acknowledged, how little he had shared with them. Not that he was going to stand in the middle of the Hub and say 'Hey, I love animals'. Such insights usually came out in answer to a question or in conversation and when had anyone ever talked to him about his life? Never.

"How are you doing down here?" asked Jack, feeling he'd offended Ianto in some way but not sure how.

"Just about finished."

"That's great, thanks for your help." He hoped Ianto would tell him what was bothering him. Direct questions were useless, Ianto clammed up, but keeping the conversation going might loosen his tongue.

"No problem." Ianto hesitated, about to say more, but decided not to continue.

Jack noticed and put a hand on the boy's arm. "Ianto, what is it? Can I help with something?"

"Thing is, sir, I don't have enough to do. Back at the Hub." He looked across at Jack who was regarding him steadily. "In fact, the past few days, I've had very little."

Jack was silent as he thought about what Ianto was trying to say. It sounded like a plea for more work to fill the void left by losing Lisa. He decided to chance that he was right. "I suppose looking after Lisa took up quite a bit of your time," Jack began, slowly and thoughtfully. "Oh, I know you've never neglected your duties around the Hub, you've always a good job there. Excellent job in fact. Do you want me to find something else for you to do? Something more challenging maybe? Or should we think about cutting your hours?"

Ianto was horror-struck: cut his hours!? He already had way too many empty hours in the day when all he could do was think of Lisa and what had happened. Any more of that and he would go stark-staring mad. "No! Please don't cut my hours, sir. I need to work. To be with other people, even if they do hate me."

"Nobody hates you, Ianto!" responded Jack immediately. "If they hate anyone right now, it's me! Maybe the others are finding it hard to come to terms with what happened but then I'm guessing you're finding that hard too. You've only been back five days. We all need time to adjust and you've got to give us that time. Give yourself time too." Jack watched Ianto closely, pleased that the subject was out in the open. He had tried throughout Ianto's suspension to get him to speak about what was on his mind, how he felt, but with limited success.

Ianto swallowed hard, desperate not to be drawn into a long debate about his feelings: he was a private person and he would deal with his feelings his way. "I'll try, sir," was all he said. "But please don't cut my hours. I'll do anything to fill up my time, sir. There must be something I can do to help other than just making endless cups of coffee."

Jack smiled. "Good as your coffee is, I think we'd be too wired for our own good if you made us any more in a day." He was pleased to see Ianto smile at this. "Look, Toshiko's behind with her translations and I really need her for other projects. When we get back, how about I – or you if she's still not talking to me! – have a word with her and see if you could help out?"

"I'd like that." Ianto's smile widened briefly. He felt he could work with Toshiko; he was interested in what she did and thought she would be willing to work with him. She was the most sympathetic of his colleagues and maybe she'd like him more if he helped reduce her workload.

"There's something else you could do," Jack said, having had it in mind for a while. "Four people in the field isn't always enough, especially as we usually need Tosh in the Hub. I know you're our back-up but how about going into the field more regularly? You'd be trained, of course, get your shooting skills up a notch or two and all the rest of it. I wouldn't just send you out there. What do you think?"

Ianto was surprised by the suggestion. When Jack had taken him on, it had been made clear that his role was Hub-based with only occasional forays into the field; the butler role that he himself had suggested. At the time this had suited him perfectly. He was unsure whether he'd be any good at field work but if it was another reason for keeping him busy he was willing to give it a go.

"I'd like to try it, sir. I'm not sure how good I'll be but we might as well find out." His smile faded as he thought of a problem.

"What?" asked Jack. He's been pleased with the positive response and disappointed when Ianto had gone quiet again.

"It'll only work if the others are willing to have me along. They may not want me alongside them when their lives could depend on me." Ianto looked Jack in the eye, determined to face up to the new realities of his situation. He had not given his colleagues any reason to trust him.

"Fair point, you'll have to earn their trust. And until you do, you can be paired with me. I'm willing to put my life in your hands." Jack knew he was playing with the truth here but felt that any boost he could give to Ianto's self-esteem was worth a small white lie.

"Thank you, sir. That means a lot." Ianto decided not to say anything about his growing suspicions concerning Jack's lifespan. If he wanted to keep it secret Ianto would let him, at least this way he'd be able to fill his days with training and then missions.

"Good, that's settled. We'll get some kind of training programme drawn up. In fact, why don't you have first crack at that? Highlight the areas you're good at and those we'll need to work on. We'll go though it and see if I agree!" Jack smiled as he moved his chair away from the table. "Time to get the stuff to the lock-up. Are you taking him now?" He gestured to the cat.

"I may as well," agreed Ianto, happier now he had spoken out and there was plan for keeping him busy.

"Okay. I'll just check the place once more then we can be off."

Ianto watched him go then tidied away the pizza boxes, washed up the mugs and collected the cat's carrying box. With a bit of bribery, Moses went into the box and Ianto took him out to the SUV together with his basket, a few tins of cat food and his other accoutrements. He was collecting his jacket from the kitchen when Jack reappeared.

"I can't see anything we've missed. Cat ready?"

"In the SUV."

"Let's go." He threw the hire van keys at Ianto and picked up his greatcoat. "You follow me."

"Right." Ianto knew he'd be the one driving the sodding van again. "One thing, sir." Jack turned and looked at him enquiringly. "I was wondering … and you can tell me to mind my own business, but, about Ms Cole. There's no need to keep her death a secret, is there? Couldn't she have a proper funeral?"

A look of sadness and regret flitted across Jack's face. There was no reason. Her death would be easy to explain; she was an old lady who had fallen in the garden and died. Nothing odd about that, happened all the time. Toshiko could create the necessary records in five minutes. And yet Jack was reluctant to let her go. Estelle had been a link to that earlier part of his life when he had been happy. "I don't know, Ianto," he said finally.

"It would be more fitting, sir, if she had a proper resting place. Better than just being kept in the morgue." Ianto hesitated but then ploughed on. "It helps me, sir. I go to Lisa's grave even though I know she's not actually there." Her body had been incinerated along with the cyber conversion unit. "It could help you too, to have somewhere to go and remember Ms Cole not just a drawer in the morgue."

"Maybe."

"If you wanted me to, I could organise it all for you." He moved closer and tentatively put a hand on his boss's shoulder. "Let me help, sir."

It was the touch that did it. After his initial grief at finding Estelle, Jack had buried his feelings while busy defeating the faeries and dealing with the aftermath. He had even managed to get through clearing the house but the physical contact had undone him and the tears flowed. Ianto held Jack as he wept, remembering Jack doing the same for him not so long ago.

Jack didn't weep for long and moved away from Ianto, wiping at his eyes. "Sorry about that," he said.

"Why? Ms Cole was your friend."

"Yes, yes she was. And I think you're right, I think she deserves a proper send off." He took a deep breath and smiled. "I'd welcome some help with that."

"As I said, I'd be happy to do it for you. It would help me too, be a kind of closure for losing Lisa."

"So we'd be helping each other?" Jack suggested.

"Yes, sir."

"I like that idea." He clapped Ianto on the shoulder. "Come on, we've got to get this stuff to the lock up."

The two men left the house, understanding one another better. An understanding that would lead to a closer relationship in due course.

* * *

_I'd welcome any feedback you wish to give me ..._


	6. Keeping Boredom at Bay

_Owen and Jack chat late at night. Set after A Day in the Death._

* * *

**Keeping Boredom at Bay**

The mug of coffee was dumped on Jack's desk with an audible thud followed by the creak of a chair as its bearer sat down. "I am so fucking bored."

"You must be." Jack picked up the coffee mug and looked over the rim at Owen Harper. "Thanks for this."

"Ready for another yet?" Owen looked hopeful even as he pulled a face.

Jack chuckled. "It can't be that bad!"

"It is, Harkness, it is. I am so fucking bored." He laced his hands behind his head and leant back, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm still waiting for the report on the powder Gwen found."

"I sent it to you an hour ago. And I've done the autopsy on the Weevil from this afternoon and spoken to the hospital about the bloke it gashed. He died." He looked across at Jack. "And after I e-mailed you all that lot I had sod all left to do. Zilch. Zero. Nada."

"So you made me a coffee, very thoughtful." Jack sipped the coffee, which was okay if not very hot, and watched his medic. Owen was adjusting to his new … condition but it would be too much to say he was happy about it. Resigned, maybe, but even that was pushing it. "You want me to find something for you –"

"I want you," Owen interrupted, "to tell me what the fuck to do with all this time! You're the only other one around here who doesn't sleep, so what do you do all night?"

"You mean other than Ianto?" The two men burst out laughing. "Seriously?" went on Jack, considering. "I catch up on paperwork, relax. Chat to my colleagues who are feeling bored."

"Yeah, well, I'm all up to date with the paperwork. Ianto'll have a heart attack when he finds out. Oooh, that's something to do, revive the tea-boy." He grinned wickedly. "Where is he anyway?"

"Home, asleep I should imagine. And I'd appreciate it if you refrained from injuring your team mates just to give yourself something to do. How about reading a book, watching a film, playing one of your on-line games."

"Done, done and done. Next suggestion?"

"I'm all out of them." Jack finished the coffee and put the mug back on the desk.

"Another coffee then, that'll use up at least five minutes."

"No!" Jack placed his hand on the mug to stop Owen taking it. "Good as it was I don't want another just yet. You want to talk?"

"Depends. I do not want a heart to heart about what it's like to be a walking dead man, especially with you."

"Fair enough. What would you like to talk about?" Jack leaned back in his chair. He would have liked to get on with the reports awaiting his attention but Owen was more important right now. He owed it to the man for putting him in this strange limbo between life and death.

"I don't know." He sat in silence then a curious look came over his face. "Yes, I do. When we were banged up you said you'd met Proust, remember?" Jack nodded. "Who else you met? I mean, famous people. Tell me about one, someone I'll have heard of." Owen sat back again, his gaze trained on Jack.

"Have to think about that."

"Make it quick. You may have all the time in the world. Me? I could drop down dead, really dead, anytime."

"There was the first one I made a point of looking up when I landed on Earth," said Jack thoughtfully, ignoring Owen's comment. "I'd wanted to meet him for years."

"Tell me, I have nothing else to do." Owen folded his arms and waited.

"Okay. It was America, 1876." He watched Owen but the date appeared to mean nothing to the man. "Date not jogging your memory then? What if I said Little Big Horn."

"No way, Harkness!" Owen scoffed. "You were not there, I don't believe you."

"Like I've told you before, what would be the point of lying? But if you don't want to hear about it …" Jack picked up his pen and went back to the paperwork, knowing he had Owen hooked.

"Did I say that? When did I say that? Fuck, Harkness, you are so bleeding touchy. So tell me about Custer's last stand." Owen's voice was scoffing and yet just on the side of belief rather than disbelief. "How the fuck did you get there?"

"On a horse." Owen rolled his eyes and stared at his boss. "All right." Jack sighed, put down his pen and pulled his thoughts together. "Let's see. I was in the States and started reading the newspapers, trying to remember what events were coming up. When I saw Custer's name – this was just after the Civil War – I made up my mind to be at the Little Big Horn."

"So you went to watch?" Despite himself, Owen was interested. Like all kids watching Saturday afternoon films, he'd seen Errol Flynn as the charismatic US Cavalry general. Had even caught the Ronald Reagan film very late one night when he was pissed. Custer was still an heroic figure to little kids and drunks.

"Yeah. Had a few years to wait and took my time getting there. Like I said, I was on a horse. No cars or 'planes back then."

"Like to have seen you on a horse," Owen sniggered.

"I'll have you know I'm pretty good. I started from Florida and Little Big Horn's in Montana so it was quite a way. I travelled slowly, had to earn money on the way too though I managed to scrounge most meals and drinks from willing ladies and barkeeps." Jack smiled at the memory.

"Enough! Hearing about your bleeding love life is worse than being bored!"

"Pity, that would give us lots to talk about." He paused, grinning, then continued. "Anyway, this was at the time of the Indian Wars and the so called 'taming of the West'. Most of the Native Americans were subdued pretty quickly but not in the Montana Territory, as it was then. The Army was moving in, building forts to protect the settlers who were arriving from the Overland Trail. I joined a wagon train for part of the way. Worked my way through each wagon, woman by woman, man by man." He saw the dirty look Owen was throwing his way. "Sorry, no diversions, right?"

"Damn right." Interested in spite of himself, Owen did ask, "Was it like in the movies? You know, those big wagons with the white covers?"

"Pretty much. It was dirtier, cruder and harder than it looks on screen but essentially the same."

"All the wagons circled at night too?"

"When the owners weren't fighting. Lots of disagreements in a wagon train." He paused and remembered the months he'd travelled that way. He had got over his initial anger at being stuck in the 19th century and while he wanted to find The Doctor and Rose he didn't think there was much chance in his lifetime. Back then he still didn't know he couldn't die, had assumed he'd just have his normal life span, which was longer than normal for humans of that time but not endless.

"So, Custer?" prompted Owen.

"General George Armstrong Custer," said Jack smiling. "I saw him first at one of the new forts. Couldn't miss him. Now there was a showman. He really did have his hair in golden ringlets but one of the biggest noses I've ever seen. Never like that in the movies. He was one of those people that should have been ugly but somehow wasn't, strange that."

"Don't tell me you slept with him!?"

"No, I didn't. Would have liked to but the lieutenants were keeping me busy."

"Enough!" Owen held up a hand and screwed his eyes shut, trying to block the image that popped into his head unbidden. That was the problem with Jack's stories, they always involved sex. And as Owen wasn't getting any, nor would ever again, it just reminded him of what he'd lost.

Jack chuckled. "All right. I did manage to chat to the man. Not the most intelligent person I've ever met but funny. The Seventh rode out a week or so later and most of it never came back. I latched onto a supply wagon and got a bit closer before setting out on foot. I had a reasonably good idea of where to be, just had to avoid the scouts from both sides."

"Not that they could hurt you," injected Owen sarkily, "the man that never dies."

"I didn't know that then," pointed out Jack. "It was another twenty odd years before I discovered that news so I was taking plenty of care, believe me! There were a couple of thousand Native American braves out there and seven hundred or so troopers in the Seventh Cavalry who could have ended it for me far as I knew. As it happens, I got lucky and found a spot where I could lie low and watch the action." He lapsed into silence, remembering the scene; feeling the ground tremble under the hooves of the galloping horses, the heat on his back, the dust and the insects and finally the overwhelming sight of splayed dead bodies and the smell of blood.

"And?"

"And it was magnificent and horrible at the same time. Magnificent to see the braves on their mounts - they were born to ride - and the way they were directed by Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse. They were great generals. Horrible because of the slaughter it all too quickly became. The troopers were surprised, outclassed as horsemen and finally just run down and killed." Jack roused himself, looking across at Owen. "I suppose I was expecting a great set piece battle and what I got was a lot of frightened men trying to get away from a superior opponent and not being able to run away fast enough. And it was all for nothing, the Native Americans may have won the day but the war was lost long before when the settlers started coveting the land."

"You were supposed to be cheering me up, not depressing me," complained Owen. He shifted in his chair, involved in the story despite himself. "Not such a great place to be then?"

"No and yet I'm glad I was there. Just like I was glad I made it Tombstone five years later. Seeing these points in history is always interesting. And a reminder that history is written by spin doctors." He smiled.

Owen was frowning. "You gonna tell me what happened in Tombstone or do I have to look it up?"

"Wyatt Earp?"

"The OK Corral?" Owen suggested after a few moments' thought. "Now that should have been good." He saw Jack's face. "Gonna destroy another heroic myth, aren't you?"

"Not tonight. I've got to get these reports done. Go find someone else to bother." Jack smiled at Owen, picking up his pen again.

"There's no one here! Hey, how about a gunfight?"

"You may be dead but more bullet holes would be unfortunate, even for you, Owen."

"Not a real one, you silly bugger. I'll set up the Wii." Owen was on his feet. "Give me ten minutes." Jack watched him bound out of the office and sighed. He was going to have get something to keep the man occupied or he'd never again enjoy a quiet night.

When Ianto arrived in the morning, he found Jack and Owen facing off against each other in a classic Western gunfight. He stood and watched for a moment, raised one eyebrow then went to the coffee machine; it was going to be a long day.

* * *

_Hope you liked this._


	7. Alone Again

_Set after Doctor Who's Journey's End and Lost Souls (never sure which comes first), Jack is alone in the Hub. (It ignores Torchwood's Season three – whenever that may finally be shown!)_

* * *

**Alone Again**

_**Now**_

Jack sat in his office. The Hub was quiet, just the constant drip of water and the ticking and whirling of the machines to keep him company. It had been like this before, when Alex had murdered the rest of the team and then shot himself, Jack, all alone in the Hub. Now history was repeating itself. The team was gone, wiped out. First to go had been Toshiko and Owen and now, bare months later, Ianto and Gwen had gone too.

The whisky was not helping so Jack left the half drunk glass on his desk and walked out into the work area. It was tidy, the tidiness that comes of there being no one to make it anything else. That had been Gwen's last job, clearing up the Hub, before she had kissed him goodbye and left for the last time. Home to Rhys and soon off to a new life in America. That had been his condition for accepting her resignation and not Retconning them both, they had to leave Wales. They were going to a small town in Wisconsin, to a job Jack had helped arrange and he wished them well. A new life in a new country, far away from aliens. They deserved it.

Poor Gwen. Joining Torchwood had been the best and the worst decision of her life. The best because it was a job like no other, nothing could touch it for interest, responsibility and adrenalin pumping excitement. The worst because of the losses. Gwen had survived losing Toshiko and Owen – just - but losing Ianto shortly afterwards had finished her. And it had been so sudden, so unexpected, so unlucky. Stupid even. Jack sat at the desk where the Welshman had worked for the last months of his life. He closed his eyes and he was back there, running through the woods …

_**Then**_

Ianto was running fast beside Jack when his foot caught in a rabbit hole and he tripped and fell. Jack didn't wait, couldn't, someone had to get to the breach and seal it before they broke through. When it was done, when the breach was sealed, only then did Jack wonder what had happened to Ianto. Retracing his steps, he had found him lying where he had fallen, under the trees. A small pool of blood under his head.

"Ianto?" Jack knelt, turned over his colleague, friend and lover and knew at once that he was dead. He had hit his head and died. He had hit his head on a stupid lump of rock and died.

"_Jack, Ianto you there?"_ Gwen was in the Hub, monitoring the containment breach. She could tell it had been sealed but where was Jack? Why weren't he and Ianto answering the comms?

"Yeah, I'm here. Ianto's dead, Gwen. I'm bringing him in."

Gwen was stunned, sitting with her mouth open and eyes staring at nothing. He couldn't be, not so soon after the others. How could the team have so many losses in just a few months? _"What?"_ she said into the comms.

"He's dead, Gwen. I'll be back soon. The breach is sealed again. Tell UNIT."

Jack knelt with Ianto's cooling body in his arms. He loved this man and he had lost him. Ianto had been taken away. Dead at twenty five. Three solitary tears dripped down Jack's face, one after the other, that he ignored. He and Ianto could have been so good together. Now they never would be, they would never know what they might have become, what they could have meant to one another. And all Ianto's potential for good was lost too, wiped out in an instant. Jack wiped his face, picked up the body and carried it to the SUV. At the Hub, he carried it in through the garage door and up to the Medical Bay.

It was only when Gwen saw the body that she truly believed Ianto was dead. The stunned shock passed and grief took its place. Following Jack, tears ran down her face and she sobbed wildly. She went to the body lying on the examination table and looked for bullet wounds or Weevil slashes and saw only a small gash on his right temple and some blood. She scrambled to feel for a pulse, hoping he was just unconscious, but he was cold to the touch and there was no pulse, no beating heart.

"He fell. Tripped I think and hit his head. It would have been quick." Jack stood beside her.

"Oh, Jack!" she wailed, turning and burying her head in his shoulder.

As she wept, Jack looked at the body and smiled. Ianto looked so peaceful, lying there in his suit, tie in place and with only tousled hair and a few dust marks on his trousers to mar his perfection. He'd have liked that, liked to be decently dressed and free of blood and gore or alien fluids. Pristine in death as in life.

"I can't believe it. Not again, not so soon," cried Gwen, unable to stem the flow of tears.

_**Now**_

Jack opened his eyes. That had all happened three weeks ago, three long weeks. After the few tears he had shed at the site, Jack had not cried again. It felt like the nothingness he experienced before returning to life had seeped into his bones and his brain. In the immediate aftermath he had been grateful for it. Being numb had helped as he washed and cared for Ianto's body and packed the man's possessions, both here in the Hub and in his flat. All that time and since Jack had been calm and contained. He felt the loss, most acutely in the long nights when he responded to alerts alone, but his feelings of regret and loneliness and anger seemed to belong to someone else. They were wrapped in layers of insulation and buried deep within him.

He stirred himself and looked at the screens, tapping in a few commands to check the Rift predictor program. A hint of activity to come in a few hours but nothing concrete yet. He sent a text to UNIT command and got an immediate confirmation that their team would be on standby to support him. Him. He was Torchwood again, though this time he really was the whole organisation. No Torchwood London to liaise with, to provide assistance. He was it. He typed in some more commands and pulled up the records from January 1, 2000. He read the details that he had forgotten of the two months he had coped alone, with a couple of draftees from London for the grunt work. It had taken that long to find Suzie and then three further months for Toshiko to surface. He closed the files. He would manage again. Somehow he always did.

It was time. He went to the office and downed the remainder of his whisky and donned his greatcoat. He checked he had his mobile and comms but then realised he didn't need them. There was no one to contact him. No one for him to contact. He put them back on his desk. Taking the whisky glass, he walked to the sink and rinsed it before placing it on the side to drain. Ianto would have been proud.

Then he strode from the Hub and got into the SUV. There was a guy he wanted to observe, he may be suitable to join the … him. As he drove he thought back to just after Ianto's death. When Gwen had come to him with a request …

_**Then**_

"I want to do it, Jack, please let me."

"Gwen, I don't know –" Jack protested but half heartedly, all too aware of Gwen's need to be involved.

"Please!"

Gwen sat on the sofa, fingers shredding a tissue, her eyes red with crying and her nose running. She hadn't stopped crying for the past two days and Jack wondered if she ever would. Rhys had been on the 'phone, not complaining exactly but making it clear he was concerned, asking for her to be treated with kid gloves until she got over this first wave of grief. He needn't have bothered, Jack could see for himself how Gwen was reacting and wondered why he wasn't doing the same. Being numb might help him with the practicalities but it wasn't what he wanted.

"All right. His sister's name is Rhiannon Evans. She took the news well but that might have been because it was so unexpected. I'll leave you to make the arrangements for the body to be collected. Do the same as we did with Tosh."

"Thanks." Gwen smiled, a tremulous smile but one nonetheless. "Have you got her number?"

"I'll get it for you."

The next day Gwen came to find him. He was in the vaults, feeding the captives. He had taken on just about all Ianto's tasks, finding this a way of connecting with his dead lover. He could envisage the Welshman moving round the Hub, immaculate in his suit, as he efficiently took care of all his duties. And it helped to be active, filling his days with mindless activity made them easier to get through.

"We've fixed the funeral for next Tuesday," she said, standing to one side as he heaved meat into the cell for one of the Weevils. "It'll be at the crematorium. Rhiannon said Ianto wasn't religious and it was what he would want."

"Good. As long as it's practical," Jack said, smiling. "Ianto wouldn't want anything over the top."

"No." Tears fell down Gwen's face again and she searched her pockets for a tissue. "She wanted to know if you'd say a few words."

"No." He couldn't do that. His feelings for Ianto were too personal for saying aloud.

"Sure?" He nodded. "Are you okay, Jack? You seem so calm and I know what he meant to you, how close you both were." She reached a hand to him and he stopped what he was doing. "If I can help …"

"Thanks, but I'm all right. I know he's dead and I am very, very sad but I seem to .. Oh, I don't know, it seems like it's all happening to someone else. But I do care. I miss him so much."

"Come here." She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him. Jack let her, knowing it helped her to comfort him. The numbness persisted.

_**Now**_

The SUV was parked so Jack had a good view of the street. The residential block was half way down on the right and he'd be able to see when his quarry appeared. The man's name was Simon Price and he was a thief of distinction. He could get through the best alarm systems and was neat and efficient in his entry and exit from his targets. Moving up from electronic equipment, he had stolen art and silver to order and was now an expert in 'liberating' documents. Jack liked him. He had arranged a chance meeting and read all he could about the twenty four year old. An abusive father and neglectful mother had not stopped Simon doing well academically and his Oxford university degree was an impressive 2:1. Boredom and the urge to take risks had led him to start stealing as a teenager and he was now a master.

Settling down in his seat more comfortably, Jack thought back to meeting Ianto and Gwen. No need to go out and recruit either of them, they had come to him. Both had challenged him, in very different ways, and he missed them. Like he still missed Toshiko with her quiet smile and technical genius and Owen's rough tongue and ascerbic personality that hid his pain and medical brilliance. A good team. A fantastic team, he amended, one of the best. It would be a long time before he forgot them, if he ever did.

Movement attracted Jack's attention back to the street and he saw Simon Price emerge from the front door and make off to the shopping centre. A creature of habit, the man had done the same on the previous two occasions that Jack had watched him. Jack would have to break him of that, make him vary his routine and be more cautious. Though working for Torchwood would probably do that without any special help from Jack, no two days were ever alike. Jack remembered back to the Tuesday of Ianto's funeral, a day like no other …

_**Then**_

The crematorium was set in well maintained gardens with trees and shrubs among which were memorials to the dead. The sun was bright, warm on Jack's back as he stood apart from everyone else. Gwen was with Rhiannon Evans and her husband, their young children left with friends, and Ianto's mother. Rhys was there too with the policeman, Andy Davidson, and some other people Jack did not know but assumed to be either relatives or friends. He had been introduced to Mrs Jones and Rhiannon but had then drawn apart. He wasn't good at occasions like this and, anyway, it didn't seem right. Not today. Not when it was Ianto.

"How are you, Jack?" It was Martha Jones, come to attend the funeral of yet another of his team. She had met and worked with them for such a short time and now three of them were dead.

"I'm fine. And you? How's UNIT?" He smiled down at her, amazed again at how tiny she was, such a small woman to have done all that she had to save the world.

"I'm okay. And UNIT's all right, though I'm thinking of getting out. It doesn't really sit well with being married."

She was looking at Jack with concern, knowing how close he and Ianto had been she had expected him to be more emotional. Gwen had warned her, had voiced her concerns, and Martha understood why on seeing Jack. He looked the same as ever. Maybe more drawn around the eyes, she thought, but that was all. He was less visibly affected than he had been at Toshiko's funeral which made no sense at all. Unless he was bottling it up inside. She hoped that was not the case because his emotions had to find a release somehow and somewhen. The longer he held them back the more violently he would feel them eventually.

"Just a month to go, everything organised?" He smiled, pleased that she had found happiness with Tom Gilligan.

"Just about," she grinned, ruefully. "Really, Jack, how are you?" She linked her arm through his and turned him away and walked a few paces further from the other mourners.

"Fine. I miss him, Ianto, miss him a lot. All the time. I miss seeing him in the Hub, miss his coffee, miss talking to him, miss those suits! Yet .."

"What?" she prompted, blinking back tears.

"I can't seem to show how I feel. It's like there's a big blanket wrapped round all those feelings and they can't get through." He smiled, "Stupid, huh?"

Martha was crying now, beautifully as she did everything else. Not for her the red eyes and snotty nose that afflicted Gwen. "It is not stupid, Jack! And I know how much you care. One day those feelings will find their way to the surface. When they do, you call me. You hear me, Jack Harkness? 'Cos you're going to need someone to talk to. Just say you need me and I'll come."

"I promise." He held her close, pulling her petite body against him. It helped, just a little.

The hearse arrived and Ianto's coffin was taken into the chapel with the mourners following behind. Martha stayed with Jack, towards the back of the chapel, and continued to weep quietly for a friend she had known for only a few months. Jack, who had known him for nearly three years and who had been his boss and lover, had no tears. He sat dry eyed throughout the ceremony.

_**Now**_

"What a place!" said Simon Price on entering the Hub for the first time. "I had no idea it was here."

Jack showed him round, pleased his instincts were proving reliable again. He had approached the man and explained about Torchwood and now was showing him round. In the cells, Simon was curious and sympathetic when he saw the Weevils there; a good start. "There's a lot more," said Jack, leading the way back to the main level, "but that can wait. Are you interested?"

"Absolutely!" Simon's face glowed with excitement and in anticipation of the job he was being offered. It was like nothing he had ever encountered before or even dreamed about. He wanted in.

"You understand you can't tell anyone. And I mean anyone. You do and you comprise the security of everyone on the team and you'll be out so fast –" Jack stopped. 'The team', what team? There was no team to compromise. If Simon joined up, it would just be the two of them for some time to come.

Simon didn't notice Jack's introspective look. "Hey, I understand. I'm on board, Captain Harkness. I haven't got any family left and my girlfriends tend to come and go pretty fast. You don't need to worry about that." He grinned at the man he hoped would be his new boss.

Jack pulled himself together and nodded, managing a smile too. "Okay. Go away, think about it. I'll be in touch in a couple of days, see if you still feel the same then."

"I will. There is no way I'll pass on this one!"

Jack led him back out of the Hub, through the Tourist Office, and locked the door after him. He would do, Jack could work with him and that's all that mattered now. He went back to Ianto's desk and looked through the programs to see what had been happening. UNIT were doing most of it, there was no one else, and luckily the local commander was co-operative. Easy on the eye too, a stunning blonde who filled out her uniform in all the right places.

He reset the alarms to alert him to activity and sent a text to UNIT saying he was back on duty. It was a good back-up system they had arranged with UNIT and he had to thank Gwen for that. It was her idea after the loss of Toshiko and Owen. Gwen. She and Rhys had come to him, exactly a week after Ianto's funeral …

_**Then**_

"What is it, Gwen?" he asked when the two of them had walked into his office. He gestured to them to sit down and they did, Gwen gripping Rhys' hand and close to tears again.

"I can't do this any longer, Jack. I'm so sorry." The tears began then, dripping down her face unheeded. "I want to leave."

"Are you sure? You felt like this before, after Owen and Tosh, and got through it. Gwen, I don't want to lose you." Jack kept his gaze on her but held out little hope she would change her mind. She looked broken and that distressed him; he didn't want her permanently damaged by Torchwood. "If you took a few weeks, months? Went away maybe?"

She was shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Jack, so sorry but that won't work. Not for this. We've lost them and I can't carry on without them." She wiped at her tears. "I'm so sorry."

Jack stood and went round to crouch before her, putting his hands on her shoulders and smiling. "Stop apologising, Gwen. I'm the one who's sorry for mixing you up with Torchwood in the first place. I should have kept you out of it." He pulled her into an embrace and held her shaking body against his. "I understand and you must do what is best for you, for you and Rhys." He glanced at the man who was sitting watching.

Gwen pulled back, reaching again for her husband's hand. "We talked about it, Rhys and me, and we understand if you need to Retcon us. But if there's a way, well, I'd like to remember them. All of them and all the fantastic things they did. I want to remember you too, Jack."

They talked for a while and hammered out the deal. Gwen and Rhys would leave Wales and Jack would not Retcon them. It suited them all. A week later and Gwen left for the last time, after giving the Hub a proper cleaning and packing away her own desk.

_**Now**_

Jack sat at the desk and looked round. He had spent over a hundred years, on and off, in this place. Initially he had had no choice. Torchwood was his best way of passing the time and findingThe Doctor when he next came calling. When Jack had found him and discovered his inability to die was not going to go away, after the year that never was, Jack had come back to be with his team. They'd had a year, just over. So little time for him to be with the people he had recruited. The people he had moulded into the best team Torchwood had known. The people who were family to him.

One year with Ianto. The young Welshman who had looked so good in a suit; the young man who made the best coffee ever; the young man who had a witty quip for any occasion; the young man who made light of a huge workload; the young man who had taken everything Torchwood could throw at him and still smiled. The young man who had stolen Jack's heart when he wasn't looking.

Suddenly, without warning, Jack found emotions bubbling up inside him and a wave of pain engulfed him. He wept, sobbing his heart out for the young man he had loved and lost. Tears poured down his face and he didn't care. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed then bawled at the unfairness of life. He, Jack, would live for ever and Ianto had had only twenty five years. They had know each other such a short time. Jack shouted, swore and threw himself to the floor beating his hands against the concrete at the unfairness of it all. Hours later he uncurled himself from the ball of misery he had become and walked, on unsteady legs, to his office. He picked up the mobile and pressed in a number.

"Martha, I need you."

**Coda**

The next day Jack released Myfanwy, locked down the Hub and left Cardiff without a backward glance. He took a small bag containing all he needed after over a century with Torchwood. Martha was with him and she took him back to her parents' house where he stayed for a few days before moving on.

Jack calls Martha occasionally but generally no one knows where he is or what he is doing. The Torchwood Hub lies under Cardiff abandoned and inaccessible. Gwen and Rhys settled into the American way of life with enthusiasm and named their first son Jack. Simon Price never heard anything more from Captain Harkness and put the whole strange event down to a dream.

* * *

_Sorry it that's a bit dark, it wasn't at all what I started out to write! Let me know what you think of it. _


	8. First Edition

_Ianto finds a locked room in the Hub…_

* * *

**First Edition**

The first time Ianto found the room, he was searching for a suitably remote place to house Lisa. He'd been at Torchwood Three only a few days and already realised there were many levels of tunnels and basements below the ones used for the archives and stores. What he needed was a large room with electrical power that was well away from the areas his colleagues frequented, not that many of them ventured below the cells. So far, he had seen only Suzie and Jack on the lower levels and even they hadn't come down to this level, level six, where he had found the locked room.

He paused and studied the lock for a while. It was a combination of code and iris scanner, a fancy lock for a room way down here. He wondered what was inside and contemplated trying to get in but good sense stopped him. Whoever kept the room locked would notice if he tampered with it, maybe it had an alarm. The last thing he wanted was to alert anyone to his presence down in these lower levels so he passed by, going down two more levels before he found the ideal spot. A large room, reasonably dry with sufficiently large doors to get the cyber conversion unit and all the other paraphernalia inside. And the key was in the lock. Not a fancy lock like the room above, just an old-fashioned key. Ianto trusted old fashioned things and smiled as he looked around. Now he just had to get the equipment moved in and then transfer Lisa, a couple of days should do it as long as the others were kept busy out of the Hub.

It was over six months later that Ianto again came across the locked room on level six. He was on that level filling in time, the hours and hours that stretched before him without Jack. Their leader and Ianto's lover had gone. He'd risen from the dead and then disappeared. Ianto had puzzled over that and even gone back to his bible to refresh his memory of the Easter story. Just like Jesus, Jack had died and risen after three days only to leave behind his disciples, in this case a fractured and argumentative team. The thought of any parallels between Jack and Jesus Christ were laughable and yet … and yet. It was to occupy his time with more sane ideas that Ianto had come down to the lower levels. He was compiling an inventory of all that was stored down here and had already found a stash of artefacts and bundles of reports from the 1930s that looked like they had been abandoned. He and Toshiko were starting to look through the artefacts and Gwen had offered to take the reports.

The door stood before him, locked as it had been before. Putting aside his clipboard and pen, Ianto tried entering some random numbers into the lock. He was pretty sure this room had to be something to do with Jack so next he tried codes Jack used - had used, he amended - for the secure archives in his room and for cupboards in his quarters, grateful the man had shared them with him. None of the codes worked. Reaching into his pocket, he removed the alien lock opening device and tried that, grateful he had thought to bring it with him. It flashed a few lights and whirled for several minutes and Ianto was about to give up when the lock clicked open. Pocketing the device, the Welshman turned the handle and opened the door.

Inside the room was dark but the light from the corridor showed stacks of boxes. Feeling around, Ianto found the light switch and dim light came from a single, bare light bulb overhead. Venturing into the room, he looked around to gauge the size of the space; not large and definitely only containing boxes. In one corner were a few flattened boxes and rolls of tape waiting to be used and a small stepladder. The made up boxes were stacked neatly in rows. There were four complete rows, each six boxes long by four high, and one part row, the same six boxes long but only two boxes high with a couple starting a third row. Each box was large, about four feet long by three feet wide and high, and sealed with brown tape with a date, at least that's what Ianto assumed it was, printed neatly on the side. Running his eye along them, he saw several from the 1920s, 1930s and 1950s. He estimated there was at least one box for every year of the last century, with those for more recent years making up the part row. Whoever had put the boxes here was adding to them.

Going to the part row, he examined the dates more closely and realised that there was one for the current year which, he thought, ruled out Suzie as being the person who used the room. As Owen and Tosh never came down here and Gwen would probably get lost – a running joke in the team – it only left Jack which also made the most sense, this was his home after all. He pondered for a moment whether he should open a box. It was invading Jack's privacy, no doubt about that, but was Jack ever coming back? Fighting back the wave of pain at that thought, Ianto decided that opening one box would be defensible. Maybe the contents were work-related. Or they could be damaged and need to be moved. He had to check. Selecting a box at random, 1985, he carefully ran his penknife down the tape and broke the seal. He stared in amazement at what he saw inside.

Reaching in he pulled out a brand new, hardback copy of Jilly Cooper's _Riders_. Below it there were half a dozen more copies of the same book, neatly packed in the box, all in pristine condition. He looked below these books and saw more by other authors. What on Earth were they doing here? Whatever was going on they were nothing to do with Torchwood. He carefully replaced the book he'd removed, fetched the tape and resealed the box. Were all the boxes full of books? Why? His curiosity demanded that he look in just one more box and he moved to another stack and placing the step ladder he climbed up and unsealed one of the top boxes. The date on the side of the box was 1955 and its contents were more books, this time the final part of J R R Tolkein's _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy. Ianto retrieved the tape and resealed the box, puzzling over the mystery. Even after he had replaced the step ladder and was standing near the door again he had no clear ideas. Deciding it was a mystery he would not solve today, Ianto turned off the light and shut the door. He was relieved when it automatically locked behind him.

The next time Ianto thought about the room was months later. Jack was back, Owen was dead and Gwen was married when Ianto went looking for Jack one evening when they were the only two left in the Hub. He tried the cells and then the archives spread over the next two levels; no sign of Jack. Stopping at one of the PCs in the stores, Ianto called up the sensors and saw a heat source on level six and he suddenly remembered the locked room. Was Jack there? Would Ianto finally be able to ask about it? He trotted off quickly, determined to locate Jack as soon as possible before he could make his way back upstairs. As he approached, Ianto saw the door of the room was open and walked in. Jack was there, standing to one side near the part row of boxes.

"Jack?"

The man looked up from his silent contemplation. "I suppose this was you?" he said, indicating the resealed box.

"Yes. I'm sorry." Ianto put his hands in his trouser pockets and stood looking at Jack. He had invaded the man's privacy, there was no defence for what he done so he didn't volunteer one.

"How did you find the place?" Jack took a pace or two closer to the younger man, arms folded across his chest. He didn't look or sound angry, merely curious.

"When I was looking for somewhere to keep Lisa. I didn't get in then. It was when you were … away with your Doctor that I got in." He paused then added, "I only opened the boxes so I could check the contents were all right."

"Boxes? As in more than one?" Jack had only found one resealed box.

"Yes, I tried that one, up there." He pointed.

"Oh. So you've stumbled on my secret." Jack smiled then and Ianto knew everything was okay, that Jack was not angry at his intrusion.

"I don't know about that. I know you keep stocks of books down here, that's all." He smiled himself. "Going to set yourself up in opposition to Waterstones?"

Jack laughed and moved closer still. "No, nice try. This, Ianto, is my retirement fund." He gestured to the stacks of boxes.

"What?"

"I have a little advantage over the rest of you people. I know what will endure until the 51st century and therefore what will be valuable in the centuries in between."

"And that would be books," ventured Ianto, smiling more broadly and taking the few steps to stand beside Jack. "People still read paper books then? These new e-books don't catch on?"

Jack put his hands on Ianto's waist and pulled him close. "Books are like gold dust then. E-books have their day and they're still around, mainly for text books and such, but for a good read even 51st century humans prefer to hold a fat tome and turn the pages." He leant forward and kissed Ianto softly. "And I'll be able to supply that need."

"You are going to set yourself up as Waterstones!" laughed Ianto, kissing Jack back and pressing his body closer to his lover. "Just in a few thousand years."

"What I have to sell will be too expensive for the high street. Oh no, these beauties are destined for the auction houses."

"Even Jilly Cooper!?" Ianto could not hide his disbelief.

"Very big, is Jilly Cooper. And Barbara Cartland. I remember one of hers going for ten thousand credits." Jack released Ianto and walked to the middle row of boxes. "The lovely Barbara's are all here, three pristine first editions of every one of her two hundred odd books." He patted the boxes lovingly.

"I don't believe you! Not her!"

"It's true. And I've got Roald Dahl and Philip Pullman's books. Made sure of those. The best seller, of course, is darling Agatha." He moved to the row of boxes that looked the oldest. "Little goldmine these will be."

"Agatha being … Agatha Christie?" Ianto came over and looked more closely at that row of boxes. There were a lot for the 1920s and 1930s. "At least hers are better than Cooper and Cartland."

"She's the biggest seller. Beaten the Bible and Shakespeare by the 2600s." He caressed the boxes again. "If I can keep these safe I shall be sitting pretty."

Ianto turned to him. "Are you worried about the future? About what you'll do?" He had not given the matter a great deal of thought up 'til now. How would Jack survive all the years that he had yet to live? What would he live on? What would he do?

"No, something always turns up." He said brightly, smiling but the smile did not quite reach his eyes. "This is just insurance."

Ianto was not fooled. He looked at Jack steadily and it was the older man who looked away first. "Why won't you admit it?" He moved closer and wrapped Jack in a hug. "When I think of the decisions I have to make – ISAs, mortgages - they're nothing alongside yours."

Jack said nothing for a while. The future was a mixture of the known and the unknown to him. He knew the main events the human race would encounter but there were gaps of decades and even centuries that were a complete blank to him and an immortal man could easily get lost in one of these blank spaces. Optimistic by nature he was confident he'd get by but he never wanted to live in poverty again. The books really were his insurance policy. They would increase in value over the coming centuries and always be a source of income if … when he needed it.

"I just want something to fall back on," Jack said finally. "I do a little dabbling in the stock market but I like being able to see the boxes growing year by year." He moved back in the embrace, still keeping Ianto close but now looking in his eyes, "I do worry about … all those years I have yet to live. Sure, I do. But dwelling on it doesn't help. And financial advisers aren't much good for looking ahead a million years!"

"I suppose they're not." Ianto kissed him, glad Jack had opened up and said as much as he had even if it wasn't a lot. "So is J K Rowling in there?" he asked, nodding to the boxes.

"Nah, flash in the pan."

"Oh, I like Harry Potter." Ianto pulled away. "I saw Tolkein in the box I opened. He still big?"

"Huge. Mind you, I'd have bought those anyway. He was a great guy." Jack was smiling at the memory of listening to the man's lectures at Oxford University. "Come on, time to get back up top." He led the way to the door and when Ianto was out, closed it behind them.

"You knew him?" Ianto pressed.

"Yep. Where do you think he got the idea for Aragorn?"

They were both laughing as they walked back up to the main level of the Hub.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed that. I've always be fascinated about how Jack would manage his finances. _


	9. Reflections

_This is set on the day after the end of Sleeper. Gwen and Jack are alone in the Hub .._

* * *

**Reflections**

It was quiet in the Hub even though it was the middle of the morning. The equipment made odd noises and Myfanwy rustled overhead but that was all. The two people in the vast space made no noise at all. Gwen Cooper was staring into space, unable to work. She thought back over the previous day which had been full of action, unlike today which was pedestrian by comparison. Her thoughts returned to Beth Halloran whom she had liked and whose courage she admired. She had acted nobly - Gwen could think of no other word - throughout her ordeal and especially in sacrificing herself at the end. Gwen sighed and her gaze roamed the Hub and came to rest on Jack Harkness, sitting in his office rubbing his temples.

She shivered, not because she was cold but from the memory of the drive back to the Hub. Gwen had had to drive with Beth in the back and Jack in the passenger seat, slowly dying. The wound from the alien arm-spike-thing had caused serious internal bleeding and he had gradually lost consciousness and expired beside her. It was horrible to watch even though she knew he would revive in due course. Much worse than the first time when he had been shot in the head; that had been quick and clean.

He had revived, of course, and had made light of the episode as he always did. But she wondered if it really was that easy. She recalled him saying, when he come back after abandoning them for months, that he had died many deaths and that it was like … what was the exact phrase? Ah yes, like being hauled over broken glass. Maybe he was suffering now. Like delayed shock or something.

Making a decision, she got up and walked to Jack's office, her footsteps loud in the silence. "Jack? You okay?"

He looked up and smiled gently, his hands falling to rest on the desk. "Yeah, thanks," he said but he didn't look it. He looked pale and tired.

"I don't believe you." She stood in front of the desk, her gaze fixed on his and challenging him to tell her the truth.

"Okay, I have a headache. It'll go eventually."

"Want a painkiller?"

"Yeah, I think I do." He made to get up but she waved him down.

"I'll get it." In the Medical Bay she got out a pack of ordinary and one of high-strength pills and made a detour to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. She picked up a beer for herself at the same time. Back in the office she handed Jack the water. "Ordinary or the super-duper ones?" she asked, holding out the pills.

"Ordinary will do, thanks." He took the pack and pushed the pills out into his palm before swallowing them with a swig from the water bottle.

Gwen sat down, put the remaining pills on the desk and opened her beer. She took a mouthful and looked at her boss. "This happen every time?"

Jack looked over at her. She had acted well throughout the previous day, establishing a bond with Beth and thereby helping the woman make the decisions that had helped them defeat the rest of the cell. She'd not panicked at the military base nor when held captive. He was impressed yet again at how she had developed from the rather naïve WPC she had been when they'd first met. However, it looked like this incident had affected her rather more than all she had experienced so far and that, despite their chat the night before, she still had issues to be worked through.

"It's worse when it's a slow death, the effects linger a lot longer. Give me a bullet to the head any day," he joked. He took another drink of water, grateful the pills were beginning to work.

"I hadn't realised. You never say anything, never make a fuss about it."

"I'm used to it. Anyway, it freaks people out enough when I revive without going into all the gory details."

"Tell me, Jack. I want to know." She leant forward. "I want to understand what it's like."

Jack watched her for a moment, considering whether to tell her or not. Maybe it would be good for someone else to know. Ianto knew, of course, he had worked it out for himself and made a point of helping Jack as much as he could, as much as was possible. Jack had grown used to reviving in the man's arms and missed his presence when he was not there. He'd been there the day before, had come out to the SUV to stay with him until he revived, and Jack appreciated the gesture.

"It's hard to explain. The dying part is like it would be for anyone else. You've been shot, you know what that's like."

"So you feel all the pain, the blood loss, the weakness?"

"You sound like Owen!" he said chuckling.

She sat back in her chair and smiled. "God, don't! I just remember how I felt. But what about the reviving bit? You said, when you … come back, it was like being dragged through broken glass. What does that mean?"

Jack took another drink of water and sat back in his chair. "That's the closest I can get. Every part of me … that's what it feels like."

"Must hurt."

"Yeah." He looked at her. "It hurts like hell, worse than the dying part. But what I hate most is the disorientation. I never know where I am or what I'll find. One time, I was in the middle of a pile of frozen corpses." He shuddered.

Gwen nodded, appreciating what his 'gift' took out of him for the first time. She took another swig of the beer. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Not really." It was true, nothing could assuage the pain. He had got some comfort from being with Ianto during the night; lying in his arms had taken away some of the lingering effects. "But that's not what you wanted to talk about, is it?" He watched her carefully as she sat back in her seat, avoiding eye contact.

"Last night I got to thinking about what happened. Maybe I was a bit optimistic, you know, about us being ready for them." She had been positive they would be able to defeat Cell 114 the night before which she now put down to the relief at having prevented nuclear meltdown. But in the early hours of the morning, when she had been lying beside Rhys unable to sleep, that confidence had disappeared.

"We are ready for them," assured Jack. "But it won't be easy to defeat them, Gwen, it never is. We got lucky this time. Beth helped us so much and that was down to you. You connected with her, made her hang on to her humanity. You did a good job."

"But next time?" Gwen shook her head, "I don't believe we can rely on luck to defeat them."

"Of course not. But we have Tosh working on a large scale scanner for disabling their transmitters and force fields. And Owen's getting to grips with the bio-weaponry. They're both good, you know that, they'll come up with the goods and we'll be better equipped that we were yesterday."

"Maybe."

Jack regarded her steadily. "This isn't like you, Gwen. You're my up-and-at-'em girl." He narrowed his eyes and looked at with mock-seriousness. "Have you been possessed by a Beirmoth?"

"What's that when it's at home?"

"The most pessimistic being I have ever met!"

"You are daft, sometimes," she replied, smiling.

"Only sometimes?" Jack pulled a face. "I'm losing my touch." He paused then said, "Seriously, this isn't like you."

She looked down at her hands, twisting the now empty beer bottle around as she sought to find words to describe how she felt. Facing Cell 114 had frightened her. All the other weirdness she had seen in the past year had not affected this way, she had been able to rationalise it away. But these aliens had been living in the city, holding down jobs, married and thinking of having kids and never knowing they were sleeper agents. To all intents and purposes they had been human, no one could have proved differently. Until they were activated and turned into killing machines.

"They frightened me, Jack," she said at last. "If the threat comes from out there," she waved vaguely, "we have a chance of seeing it coming. But this lot? They were here already, hidden away. Who's to say there aren't others?"

"We got the whole cell, Gwen. There's not more –"

"I don't mean this lot," she interrupted, leaning forward and looking earnestly at him. "There must be other aliens that can do that. That hide themselves away and then pop up out of nowhere. They could be anywhere."

"It's possible," he admitted slowly, wondering how best to reassure her. "But looking at everyone around you as a potential threat is the first step to paranoia and madness. It won't help anyone and it certainly won't stop whatever's coming." He got up and moved round the desk, perching on the edge close to her. "Believe me, we've got enough to worry about with the ones we can see."

"I suppose." She sighed. "Tell me, Jack, tell me there are some good aliens out there."

He smiled. "Oh, there's lot of good ones. Did I never tell you about the time I –" He was interrupted by the Rift alarm. ""Uh oh." He was on his feet and out of the office immediately, Gwen on his heels. At Toshiko's workstation he checked the readings. "Weevils in Roath." He turned to Gwen, a grin on his face, "Care to join me in a Weevil hunt, Ms Cooper?"

"Try and stop me!" She was also grinning. Weevils were one alien she understood completely. They were nasty, vicious and smelly but they never pretended to be anything they were not and you could spot them a mile off. For that she was very grateful.

The two grabbed their guns, coats and a Weevil kit and were off at a run. As they shot through the Tourist Office, Jack shouted, "Weevils!" to Ianto and both he and Gwen disappeared out of the door. They were two people doing what they loved best: running and keeping the city safe.

* * *

_Let me know what you thought of this, I like to hear from you._


	10. Helping Hand

_Set after Adam and before Reset, not that it really matters …_

* * *

**Helping Hand**

"I wish you'd let me help."

"I can manage."

Jack Harkness stood and watched for a minute or two then shrugged and turned away. "Have it your own way." He left the room.

Left to his own devices, Ianto Jones struggled on for a while then sank onto the bed and groaned silently. Every time he moved a spasm of pain shot across his shoulder and down his right arm in addition to the general, dull ache. He had no idea a pulled muscle would hurt this much. Or restrict what he could do. He had managed to remove his suit jacket and tie but the waistcoat was a step too far and he daren't even contemplate removing his shoes and trousers. Closing his eyes, he counted to ten then stood up, wincing with the stab of pain even that movement caused.

At the bedroom door he surveyed the living room and saw Jack sitting in a chair flicking through the TV channels with the remote. "Would you help me please?" he asked wearily.

Jack looked across at him. "Thought you could manage?"

"All right, I apologise." He leant against the doorframe, on his good side. "I'm ungrateful and stubborn and all the other names you want to call me. Would you just help me get my clothes off?"

"Now that," said Jack with a smirk, putting the TV on standby and standing, "is something I will always help you with." He crossed to Ianto and gently turned him round and pushed him back into the bedroom. "Why are you so obstinate, Ianto Jones? You knew you wouldn't be able to do it on your own."

"I don't like relying on other people." He allowed himself to be positioned near the bed and stood as Jack started on the waistcoat.

Jack's hands stilled. "I am not 'other people'." He went back to the buttons and then carefully slipped the garment from Ianto's shoulders. "I am .. I'm .. I'm the damned fool who promised to help shift the cupboard and then forgot. And then didn't see you were hurt." That wasn't what he had been going to say so to cover his confusion he knelt and unlaced Ianto's shoes.

"I'm the fool who wouldn't wait and didn't say I hurt. Jack, this is not your fault." The Welshman obediently lifted first one leg then the other as Jack removed the shoes and socks. He put his left hand on Jack's shoulder for balance but removed it as soon as he was back standing on both feet again; he didn't want to appear too needy. Ianto knew Jack had been going to say something else but there was no point forcing the issue, it would only be worth hearing if it was said voluntarily.

Jack stayed crouched at Ianto's feet, looking at the floor. He should have carried on and said what he was going to; he was such a coward sometimes. Also, he hadn't missed the resigned tone in Ianto's voice. They were closer than ever now and Jack spent a lot of time here in Ianto's flat, yet the Welshman had never pressed for a commitment. He deserved to know how Jack felt about him yet he, Jack, couldn't say the words.

"Gone to sleep down there?" asked Ianto, lightly brushing a hand through the other man's hair.

"No." He stood up and faced Ianto. "I was thinking." He paused and wondered if he should say it then chickened out. "Should it be the shirt next or the trousers? I think shirt." He smiled brightly and began work on the buttons.

Ianto returned the smile but inside he was disappointed. He had really thought Jack might have opened up but no, he had shied away yet again. He stood still as Jack removed the shirt and then the trousers. Standing in his boxers, he shivered in the cold air; he was so rarely at home this early in the evening the central heating was set too low. They'd turned it up but it hadn't had time to heat the place yet.

"Where are your pyjamas?" asked Jack, looking around. They never wore them usually, only got in the way, but he was sure Ianto would have a pair somewhere. He needed them if he was shivering.

"Second drawer of the chest behind you. In the bottom drawer there's an old cardigan, can you get that too?"

"Okay." Jack opened the drawers and found the required items. He slipped the pyjama jacket on Ianto straight away and draped the cardigan, made of thick but light wool, over the top. He saw Ianto wince even at this slight weight. "Sorry." Next he removed the boxers and helped Ianto step into the pyjama bottoms and pulled them up, securing them at his waist. "Bed for you, I think," he announced looking at Ianto's drawn face.

"Not yet. I'm hungry."

"It is possible to eat in bed, as we've proved many times."

"I know," Ianto smiled. "But then I was able to clean up afterwards, now I won't be able to."

"True. Okay, you can stay up to eat but then it's bed. Got any slippers?"

"Bottom of the wardrobe." Jack found them and held them while Ianto slipped his feet inside.

"Come on then, my little wounded soldier," said Jack, rising to his feet.

Together they went to the kitchen and Ianto gratefully sank into a chair at the table. After a brief discussion they settled on soup and sandwiches, both of which were within Jack's capabilities and which Ianto considered he could eat left handed without making too much mess. Ianto sat and watched as Jack moved around the space, at home in the room.

They often came here to the flat, either for a whole night or just for a few hours' relaxation, when there weren't any alerts. It had been strange at first but gradually Ianto had got used to Jack's ways and vice versa. The Welshman liked the company and contrary to popular belief the two men did not spend all their time in the bedroom dabbling. Jack had owned up to a passion for board games and they had fun playing these, especially as Jack had his own rules for most of them. Monopoly would never be the same again! Looking through to the living room, Ianto saw the chess set on the side. He had bought it for Jack as it was one game neither of them had mastered. They were learning together, from a 'how to' book, and were part way through a game, playing by conventional rules for once. A quiet evening often ended at the board with a mug of coffee in hand puzzling over an opening gambit.

Jack was rummaging in cupboards and Ianto watched, a smile on his face. He liked seeing his lover in a domestic setting. Far from diminishing his heroic, larger than life personality domesticity complemented it in some indefinable way. Ianto had hoped that spending time together would make Jack more comfortable in their relationship, enough to open up and talk about it, but so far Jack was reluctant to commit himself. While that disappointed Ianto, he was too happy enjoying having Jack around to mind too much about knowing exactly where he stood. He knew that Jack wanted to be with him, that was enough for now.

"Have you moved the croutons again?" asked Jack, looking over his shoulder. "They were in here last week."

"I've never kept them there. They're with the tins in .. Oww!" Foolishly, Ianto had attempted to point to the correct cupboard.

"Hey." Jack was by his side. He wanted to hug Ianto but knew this would hurt him more so settled for brushing a hand over his back and kissing the top of his head. "More painkillers?"

"Yeah." Ianto disliked taking pills but he needed them now. Jack went to the bottles of anti-inflammatories and painkillers Owen had given them and held out two of the latter. A bottle of water was already on the table and Ianto took a swig to wash them down.

"You warm enough?" asked Jack. Ianto looked cold so Jack got a throw from the living room and put it over the Welshman's knees. "How's the swelling?"

"Better." Ianto had sat with an icepack on his shoulder for ages once Owen had noticed him not using his right arm and forced him to confess to being in pain. That and the pills had helped a lot but the constant ache and the sudden spasms when he moved were make him feel very tired. "Watch the soup, Jack."

The other man went to the stove and removed the pan from the heat, stirring the vegetable soup inside. He had got there in time to prevent disaster and replaced it, turning the heat down and finished making the chicken salad sandwiches. Jack enjoyed pottering about in a kitchen after so many years living in the Hub when he'd existed on takeaways or eaten out. His repertoire was limited but if time allowed he wanted to learn a few more dishes. Of course, it wasn't just the kitchen that he liked about being here. Ianto was a remarkable man and he … even to himself Jack couldn't say it. If he did, he would have to face the problems of mortality versus immortality and he didn't want to go there again, not yet. He put the sandwiches on plates and took them to the table.

"Want coffee?" he asked.

"No, thanks. This will do." Ianto indicated the bottle of water, being careful not to jar his shoulder.

"Right, soup's ready." He went back to the stove and turned off the heat.

"What about the croutons?"

"Damn, forgot about those. This cupboard?" he asked, moving to his right.

"Yeah. Second shelf, I think." Ianto watched and saw Jack find them. "And could I have the salt?" He worded the request carefully. Jack could get touchy if Ianto reminded him too obviously that he had forgotten something.

"Sure." He put the container of croutons on the table along with the salt. Pouring the soup into bowls, he brought these to the table and sat down. Taking some bread, which he broke into pieces and added to the bowl, he asked, "You okay there?"

"Think so." Ianto used his left hand to spoon soup to his mouth; it was awkward but he could manage.

They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the simple meal. It took Ianto longer than usual to finish but he did manage not to spill anything which pleased him. Jack watched and surreptitiously helped by moving things closer when he thought Ianto wasn't looking; Ianto let him. After a while they started to talk about current issues at Torchwood. The whole team was still attempting to work out what had happened during the two days missing from their memories. Some fanciful ideas were being bandied about, mostly by Owen who seemed very concerned he may have done something embarrassing.

"Time for bed," said Jack. "I'll clear up later." He moved round the table and pulled the chair out of the way as Ianto stood.

"Thanks." Ianto was ready for some rest, although he was not sure the ache would go away long enough for him to go to sleep. They walked to the bedroom. "What are you doing?"

"Thought you could do with a hand," was Jack's innocent reply. They were now in the living room en route to the bedroom

"On my arse?"

"But it's such a lovely arse," Jack whispered, leaning close.

Ianto laughed wearily. "Do you never stop?"

They made it to the bedroom and Jack pulled back the duvet and plumped up the pillows, forming a support for the injured shoulder. Ianto sank back and sighed; his shoulder still ached but not quite as much. Jack fussed around and tweaked the pillows until Ianto was entirely comfortable then settled the duvet around the injured man.

"Want to try the heat pad? Owen did say it would help."

"I suppose." It seemed odd to Ianto that ice and heat could both be beneficial but he'd try anything that gave him some relief and allowed him to drop off. He craved sleep all of a sudden.

"Don't be so enthusiastic! Won't be a tick."

Jack disappeared to the kitchen and put the pad Owen had supplied into the microwave. As he waited, he thought back and berated himself again for not helping move the cupboard as Ianto had requested, and for missing the signs that Ianto was injured. Thank goodness Owen had been on the ball. The microwave pinged and Jack reached in for the pad. It was very hot and he let it go immediately, reminded that he was supposed to wrap it in a towel before putting it on Ianto's shoulder. He found a clean fluffy tea towel in a drawer and wrapped the pad in it.

"Here we are," Jack announced as he entered the bedroom then stopped.

Ianto was asleep, eyes closed and head leaning to one side. He must have been exhausted. Once more, Jack marvelled at how young the man looked when sleeping, all the worries of the world that he carried on his shoulders when awake fell away and he was just the twenty something man again. Deciding to use the heat pad anyway, Jack placed it gently on the injured shoulder over the pyjamas and cardigan and still within the tea towel. He brushed back a lock of hair and smiled. Maybe be would tell Ianto how he felt when he woke up. Maybe. Leaving the man to sleep, Jack turned out the light and part closed the door. He intended to steal a march on Ianto by studying the chess board.

* * *

_Just a little piece of fluffiness._


	11. Let Me Help 2

_This a sequel to Let Me Help, chapter five of this series of stories. Ianto is arranging Estelle Cole's funeral …_

* * *

**Let Me Help 2**

Thursday was drawing to a close. It had been full of routine tasks with just the one Weevil sighting which Owen and Gwen had dealt with. They were the two team members who most disliked staying in the Hub for long periods and had jumped at the chance to get out. Jack had watched them leave and return and seen the familiarity and joking between them. Looked like Owen was making moves on the newest member of the team, he thought, and considered it .. unhelpful. Gwen had a life outside Torchwood and Owen could bring that crashing down about her ears.

"Okay, kids, go home," Jack called, standing at his office doorway.

"Great," enthused Gwen, powering down her PC and reaching for her bag. "I'll be able to go out for a drink with Rhys."

"Enjoy." Jack looked across at Toshiko who was at her workstation with Ianto by her side. She had accepted the offer of the boy's help with translations – after a bit of persuasion - and was showing him the programs. He walked over behind them and put a hand on their backs. "Go. Home," he said, leaning between them.

"In a minute, Jack. I just want to finish showing this to Ianto." She smiled then looked anxiously at the boy. "Unless you want to get off."

"No, I'm fine for a bit longer." They put their heads back together and Jack left them to it. It was good to have some conscientious employees.

"Bye, Jack. Bye, all," called Gwen as she put on her jacket and made for the exit.

"Hold up a minute, I'll walk out with you." Owen appeared from the Medical Bay, throwing his white lab coat over his desk chair. Grabbing his messenger bag and making no attempt to tidy his desk or turn off his PC, he strode after Gwen who had paused to wait for him. "Night." The pair strode off and were gone.

Jack went back to his office. It was two days since the encounter with the faeries and his team was speaking to him again. The clear up was complete and these quiet days were an opportunity to get back to normal. He went back to the accumulated paperwork on his desk; he had cleared a lot today and was feeling pleased with himself. The folder he picked up contained a note from Ianto with a neatly set out table showing his operational strengths and weaknesses together with a schedule for improvements in those areas he considered necessary. Jack smiled as he read the documents; according to this Ianto was deficient in everything. Picking up his favourite red pen, Jack went through the table and altered most of the entries. The areas where Ianto needed more training were firearms, tactics and communication protocols, the rest would come with experience. Continuing through the pile of folders, Jack was startled when Toshiko put her head round the door half an hour later.

"I'm off. See you tomorrow."

"Okay, bye."

He smiled and watched her walk off. As he could not see Ianto he assumed he had left too. It was disappointing the boy had not thought to say so but it was still early days, he'd only been back at work a week since his suspension. A report about a disappearance in the Brecon Beacons caught Jack's attention and he turned to his PC to check his memory. Hadn't there been others in that area? He was still checking when he heard movement behind him and whirled round.

"Coffee, sir." Ianto was standing in front of the desk, two coffee mugs and a folder in his hands. "If you have a moment, there's something I'd like to discuss." He hesitated, still wary of presuming too much.

"No problem. I thought you'd gone for the night." Jack took the mug and leant back in the chair, cradling the mug against his chest and enjoying the smell of the beverage. The boy made great coffee.

"No, not yet, sir." Ianto drew up a chair and sat down, resting his own mug of coffee on the desk. "I wanted to update you on Ms Cole's funeral arrangements." He saw Jack's face cloud over. They had obviously been close friends, lovers probably, all those years ago and it must be hard for him to talk about this. "It's just a few points I want to clear with you."

Jack took a deep breath. "Fire away."

Ianto opened the folder. "Despite Ms Cole's beliefs in the occult, she was a regular attendee at All Saints Church. I've spoken to the vicar, Reverend Cox, and he's more than willing to take the Service. I checked your diary and arranged it for Monday at 10.30. I hope that's acceptable." He looked across at Jack.

"Fine." Jack was sipping his coffee, looking down at the desk. This all seemed so wrong. Estelle should be alive and enjoying her rather dotty life, he shouldn't have to be thinking about funeral services. He didn't want to do this.

"Good. I've secured a plot in the church's own cemetery. Toshiko gave me a death certificate and I've registered the death. I've also spoken to Davies and Hopkins, the undertakers and -"

"Enough!" Jack was on his feet, pacing round behind his desk. "I'm sure you've done everything by the book, Ianto. And I thank you. But I don't want to know the details. I'll be at the funeral, the rest I leave to you. Just leave me be!" He ran his hand through his hair and stood facing the wall, his back was to the boy yet so expressive.

"Of course, sir." Ianto stood up, took his undrunk coffee and walked from the office. Putting the folder on his desk, he threw away the coffee, rinsed the mug and left the Hub.

He was driving back home when his mood returned to something like normal. Jack had been upset, that's all his little burst of temper meant. Ianto mustn't take it personally but it had hurt to be dismissed like that when he was only trying to help. As he parked the car, in a good spot for once, he had a sudden flashback to the things he had said to his boss barely a month before, shortly after Lisa's death. He had been more than dismissive, he had been downright rude, and yet Jack had come back for more. Ianto vowed to follow his example. In the flat, Moses was lying on the old fluffy rug Ianto had found in a charity shop, fast asleep. The cat didn't wake when Ianto rubbed his ears and back, just twitched a little. He seemed to be settling in well. After changing, Ianto was in the kitchen warming up a microwave meal when his mobile beeped for an incoming text message. He flicked it open and read: _'Sorry, Jack'_. He was smiling as he went back to preparing his meal. Somehow those two words made all the difference.

The next day was busier. Jack was out with Owen and Gwen for most of the day, clearing up after the Rift dumped two nuns from the 1420s in Butetown and chasing down reports of a market in alien artefacts in Newport. Jack enjoyed being active and was in a good mood when he got back to the Hub around six in the evening. The team were all still there and they settled down for some pizza and beers in the Boardroom, winding down for the weekend although only Owen would be off duty. It was a good natured meal though Jack noticed Ianto was still quiet, barely saying a word during the whole meal. He had to get the boy integrated into the team, but how?

After everyone had gone home Jack went to his office and checked his desk. Among his e-mails, he found one from Ianto confirming the date, time and place of Estelle's funeral. Nothing more, just the one sentence. Making sure it was entered in his calendar, Jack walked over to the fridge and got a bottle of water. He wondered if he should have given in so easily to Ianto's argument for a funeral; he could foresee an empty church and a wet and windy walk to the cemetery. Oh well, too late now.

"Goodnight, sir." Ianto was standing at the foot of the steps by Toshiko's desk looking up at Jack who appeared to be staring into space.

"Still here?"

"Just going." He paused then turned to go.

"Ianto, wait a minute." Jack walked over and down the steps. "Estelle meant a lot to me, that's why it's hard to think about her funeral. I'm sorry I snapped at you yesterday."

"That's all right, sir, I understand. You loved her." Ianto smiled briefly, not sure whether to stay or leave.

"Yes, I did. I appreciate you doing … what you're doing." Despite living so long, Jack had never organised a funeral and had no idea what was involved.

"It's helping to fill my time. That and the translations."

"How's that going?" Jack smiled and took a swig of the water in his hand.

Ianto rolled his eyes but smiled his little smile again. "There's a lot to learn but Toshiko's a good teacher. I think … I think it's going all right."

The one-to-one contact with Toshiko had helped bridge the gap between them and he felt that at least she did not hate him any more. She had even bought him a cup of coffee which had touched him: she was trying. Owen, on the other hand, continued to ignore him or pass sarky comments while Gwen was trying too hard to be friendly. But there were less occasions when he wanted to walk away and give up trying to earn their forgiveness and he saw this as an improvement.

"Good. When we get our next Weevil hunt, I want you to tag along. Get some first hand experience."

"If you think I'm ready for it." Ianto looked far from convinced but he had always accepted other people's opinions of what was best for him. He had very little faith in his own judgement when applied to himself.

"I do." Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "If it's quiet tomorrow, maybe we can fit in a session on the firing range. Now get off home. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, sir." Ianto turned and was part way through the cog door when he heard Jack call out after him.

"And don't call me 'sir'!"

Back in his office, Jack was chuckling to himself and getting ready for another night of paperwork when he suddenly stood still. Ianto had said that he, Jack, had loved Estelle. How did he know that? Had Gwen told them all? He was so disturbed by the thought of her breaking his confidence that he ignored the folder of papers on the Brecon Beacons' disappearances and went down to his quarters.

Saturday dawned bright and breezy and Ianto decided to walk to work. It was not too far and he welcomed the fresh air and exercise. When he was in the Hub all day it could become claustrophobic even in a space that size. He felt happier than he had in a while and had slept reasonably well, only waking twice. Stopping at a newsagents, he bought the local paper; he had meant to get it the day before but forgot. His entry was there: _Estelle Cole died suddenly at home aged 83. Funeral at All Saints Church, Penarth on Monday 14__th__ September at 10.30. Flowers and enquiries to Davies and Hopkins. _Good, it was all spelt correctly. With the paper folded under his arm he continued his walk. The arrangements were made, including flowers for the church and some from Jack to go on the coffin. He had finalised the Order of Service and got it printed and gone through Ms Cole's address book notifying those noted there of the arrangements. He had also booked the church hall for tea and sandwiches for anyone who wished to attend after the funeral. Ianto thought there would be quite a few mourners especially as the vicar had promised to spread the word among his parishioners.

Just before he got to Mermaid Quay Ianto saw Gwen also walking into work and without thinking jogged to catch up with her. It was only when he was alongside her that he remembered he was still in disgrace and almost pulled back.

"Morning, Ianto." She was finding it easier having him around and was making an effort to overcome her lingering discomfort. "You walking as well? Rhys wanted my car today, his is in the garage for a service."

"I thought I would, it's such a lovely day." They walked a few paces in silence then Ianto added, "You met Ms Cole, Estelle Cole, didn't you?"

Gwen stopped and looked at him. "Yes. What of it?" she said sharply.

"I just wanted to let you know her funeral is on Monday. I thought you may like to go." He had not missed her flash of anger and put it down to her distrust of him. Retreating into his shell, he lowered his eyes and walked on.

"Wait up," she called, jogging to catch him. "How do you know?"

"It's in the paper." He had decided not to say anything about making the arrangements. That was something he was doing for Jack the person, not Jack the boss. It was nothing to do with anyone else.

"Right." She fell into step with him as they entered Roald Dahl Plass. "Don't suppose there'll be many there. We ought to go with Jack, keep him company." Ianto's heart lifted at being included but then plummeted again when she continued, "I'll talk to Tosh and Owen. You'll be able to keep an eye on the Hub while we were out, won't you?"

"Actually, I shall be attending too," he said stiffly. He quickened his pace and walked past the water tower to the Tourist Office entrance. Damn it, would he never be considered part of the team!?

Gwen stood looking after him and wondered what she had said wrong. How was she to know he wanted to attend? Taking the lift, she descended into the Hub where Toshiko was already at her desk and Jack in his office.

"Gwen, a word." Jack was at the office door and did not look pleased.

"What's up?" she asked as she joined him in the office. He was seated at his desk looking at her sternly.

"Shut the door." He waited until she had done so then continued, "When I told you about my relationship with Estelle I did so in confidence. I did not expect you to share it with the rest of the team."

"I didn't!" responded Gwen, wide eyed and shocked at the accusation. "I've not said anything!" Her anger was rising now, how dare he accuse her breaking a confidence? She valued his trust and would not betray it.

Jack looked at her steadily - and believed her. She was not adept enough at lying to have manufactured that affronted look. "I'm sorry. I believe you." He stood and walked round the desk. "It's just one of them made a comment and .. well, I jumped to the wrong conclusion. Sorry."

Gwen's anger fizzled out but not her resentment. "Well next time get your facts straight before flinging accusations around!" She turned on her heel and left the office. She flounced to her desk and sat down, feeling hard done by, and was not best pleased to see a note from Jack asking her to research disappearances in the Brecon Beacons. Like that was going to get done!

Jack stayed in his office. He was not concerned about Gwen, she would get over it. But if she had not said anything, and Jack believed her, then how did Ianto know about him and Estelle? Jack thought back to when they had cleared the house and remembered the photograph. Ianto must have found it and put two and two together. And yet he hadn't said anything even though it must have raised plenty of questions. Like how could Jack have been alive back in the 1940s. If Ianto knew that, and hadn't queried it, what else did he know? Jack determined to keep an eye on the boy.

Gwen was still a bit resentful of the wrongful accusation when, just before lunch, there were reports of Weevils in Splott. Jack surprised her by including Ianto on the mission but she did her best to hide it and made no comment. The three found the two Weevils – adolescents by their size – and surrounded them. Jack tackled the larger of the two with Gwen and Ianto taking the other one. As they approached, she watched Ianto and gave a few instructions when it looked like he needed them. They co-ordinated their attack well, managing to subdue the Weevil with the minimum of fuss. There was a better atmosphere in the SUV between all three of them when they returned to the Hub with the Weevils in the back.

It was mid-afternoon when Jack sent Gwen home. Toshiko could have gone too but preferred to stay and carry on working on a program she was developing. Leaving her to it, Jack took Ianto to the firing range where he had set up a few targets. Ianto noticed they were rather nice depictions of Weevils.

"Okay, Ianto, let's see what you can do."

Jack stood back, ear defenders and goggles in place and watched as the Welshman settled into the classic two handed stance and fired away. The boy looked stiff and uncomfortable and his shots were close but not close enough. Stepping forward, Jack said, "Well that was rubbish, wasn't it? First, let's get this off." He tugged at the suit jacket until he had it off. "It's all right for James Bond to be restricted by a suit but that's acting. This is real life."

"But I'll be wearing it on a mission," protested Ianto feebly.

Jack brushed the objection aside. "I want you to be able to move freely," he said, coming to stand in front of Ianto and loosening his tie. Up close, bare inches away, Jack was again struck by how young the boy was and how good looking. He wanted to reach out and stroke his frown away. It was strange how despite all the boy had done, Jack was still attracted to him. "Now, you have a good stance but let's try a side-on shot. Right arm up like so," Jack turned Ianto to stand sideways and raised his arm.

Ianto was speechless when Jack stood behind him, so close that he could feel Jack's breath on his neck and the heat from his body along his back. He could smell that special scent of Jack's too, the one he had said was 51st century pheromones although Ianto had no idea what that meant. Jack supported Ianto's gun arm and hand with his own as the younger man fired. The shot was dead centre in the paper Weevil's head. All Ianto's shots were on target after that, as long as Jack was close behind him. If he moved away too far the shots went wild which seemed perverse or so the younger man thought. Over the next hour, Ianto fired all sorts of weapons and when he unloaded the clip of the AK47 and destroyed the target Weevil Jack looked so pleased the younger man couldn't help laughing. It was the first time he had laughed for a very long time and it felt good but also wrong.

"Ianto?" queried Jack, seeing the familiar closed expression.

"Nothing. I think I've had enough for today." Ianto placed the machine gun back on the table and reached for his jacket.

"I wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

Ianto shook his head, unable to speak. He walked away, shrugging his jacket on at the same time. He felt so stupid, fancy upsetting himself over being happy! Lisa would never have wanted that. Making for the archives, he buried himself in old files and other records and did not emerge until a good hour later. He saw that Toshiko had left and there was no sign of Jack either. Leaving a note on Jack's desk he departed for home.

That evening, lazing on the couch with Moses on his stomach and a bottle of beer to hand, Ianto was reading when the doorbell rang. Stifling a curse, he eased the cat off him and got up. He was surprised to see Jack when he opened the door.

"Hey, Ianto." Jack stood filling the doorway, grinning.

"Sir. Can I help you?" Ianto was nonplussed. He couldn't think why Jack was here.

"Yeah, but do you want to talk on the doorstep?"

"Sorry, come in."

"I won't stop if you're busy," said Jack, standing in the middle of the room and taking in the trappings of a lonely man's life. "Hello, Moses, how are you?" He bent and stroked the cat which had come up to him. "Getting on with him okay?" he asked Ianto.

"Yes, thank you." He paused then added, "Would you like a coffee?"

"No, thanks. I wanted to check you were all right. You seemed upset this afternoon."

"I'm fine, thank you, sir." There was no way Ianto was going to say anything more.

Jack waited then nodded acceptance. "If you ever do want to talk, you know where I am." He turned to leave then said, as if it was an afterthought, "How did you know I loved Estelle?"

Taken off guard, Ianto saw no reason to prevaricate. "The photograph at her house and there are some records in the archives that indicate you've been around … longer than seems possible."

"I think you may have got the wrong end of the stick. It was my dad in the photograph and, well, he used to work for Torchwood too. I loved her as an old family friend." Jack looked the boy straight in the eye with his most candid gaze and projected honesty.

"I see. That does explain it, sir." Ianto smiled slightly, not believing a word of it but if that was what Jack wanted, so be it.

"Good. I'll be off then. See you tomorrow. No need to come in early." He walked to the front door and opened it. "Good night."

"Good night, sir."

Sunday was another quiet day and Ianto spent most of it in the Archives. He had decided to rearrange some filing cabinets, not an urgent or even essential task but it gave him something to do. He unearthed a number of misfiled papers and a dead rat – he hoped it was a rat – but otherwise it was an uneventful day. Jack and Gwen responded to a couple of alerts and Toshiko went with them on one so Ianto saw little of his team-mates. At five o'clock he was washed and dressed in a clean shirt when he went round the Hub with mugs of coffee. Gwen and Toshiko accepted theirs with murmured thanks and he then went to the Medical Bay with Jack's.

"Your coffee, sir." He put it down on the side, glancing curiously at the examination table where his boss was dissecting … something.

"What have I told you about calling me 'sir'?"

"Not to do it. Sir." Jack shook his head in mock-exasperation. "Sir, would it be okay if I left now?"

"Gotta date?" asked Jack. He turned to face the boy, reaching for the coffee mug, and smirking all the same time. "What's her name?"

"No date, sir." Ianto intended to go to the evening service at All Saints. He wanted to see the vicar in action and ensure all was organised for the funeral the following day. He did not propose telling Jack this.

"Ianto! You make a Trappist monk look gabby! Go!" He was grinning as Ianto left. He kept his gaze on the boy's back view, admiring the cut of his suit and the body beneath. I'll need a cold shower before bed tonight, he thought, or a trip into town.

Just before ten o'clock on Monday morning, Ianto appeared in Jack's office. "It's time to leave, sir." His boss nodded and slipped on his greatcoat as Ianto held it out for him.

If Jack was surprised when the rest of the team piled into the SUV he did not say anything. It was only days ago that they had not been talking to him yet here they were, supporting him when he needed them. They were all in smart, dark clothes; they'd made an effort and he appreciated it. Ianto drove and parked in the church car park fifteen minutes before the Service was due to begin. There were other cars here and a small crowd was gathered outside in the warm sunshine. Ianto went to speak to the vicar leaving the others to stand at the edge of the crowd.

"Where's tea-boy going?" asked Owen looking after him.

"He's talking to the vicar," pointed out Toshiko.

"I can see that! Why?"

"He made the arrangements, probably checking," said Jack, surprised they didn't know.

"He did?" queried Gwen. "He never said." She thought back a couple of days and realised how tactless her comment about his staying in the Hub had been; why had he said nothing then?

"Who are all these people?" asked Jack, looking at some elderly women coming up to join the others already there. "Is there another funeral or something? I hope they're not running late."

It was then he noticed Ianto working the crowd. He was talking to couples and small groups, introducing himself and finding out who they all were. That was when Jack realised that all these people – there must have been fifty or more – were here for Estelle. Suddenly emotional, he turned away and took a moment to compose himself, grateful when Gwen came up beside him and took his arm.

"Ianto says we should go in now," she said.

The crowd was filtering into the cool confines of the church and Ianto was standing at the door with the vicar. He introduced Jack to Reverend Cox and then led him and the others to the front pew reserved for them. Regardless of what Jack said, Ianto knew he was closer to Estelle than a family friend. Ianto was going to sit in the pew behind but Jack stopped him and made him sit beside him and the others.

"Who are all these people?" Jack whispered.

"Friends of Ms Cole. She was a well-known writer and there are a number of her colleagues from the Writers' Guild, her publisher and a few admirers of her work. Some of the others shared her interest in the occult and the rest are neighbours and fellow members of the congregation."

There was no more time for conversation as the coffin arrived at this moment. It was carried up the aisle and placed before the altar. The large display of red roses and white lilies on the top stood out and complemented the arrangements of lilies around the church. The Service took its usual form and was conducted with reverence for a life past but with touches of humour and fondness for a woman who had lived a rich and long life. Jack was openly crying as he led the mourners from the church behind the coffin on the short walk to the cemetery. After the prayers and the interment the many wreaths were piled on the grave and people began to drift away. Ianto went with the first mourners to ensure all was ready in the hall.

At the graveside, Toshiko and Owen stood apart watching as Jack said his final farewell to his friend. Gwen, the only one let into the real nature of their relationship, stayed with him.

"I didn't send flowers," Jack said finally, stirring from his silent contemplation.

"Yes you did." Gwen had been reading the cards on the wreaths and seen the message. "Here."

Jack looked where she was pointing and read: _'With all my love, Jack'_. He now understood that the red roses on the coffin were not a lucky accident, Ianto had known and chosen the flowers of love. "So I did," he said and smiling at Gwen, he took her arm through his and followed the other mourners.

The hall was buzzing with conversation as people stood and sat with cups of tea and coffee, sandwiches and cakes. The caterers Ianto had hired were experienced and moved around efficiently and unobtrusively. Jack found himself chatting to all manner of people and started to enjoy himself as he learnt more about Estelle's life and realised how full it had been. She had not been lonely as he had imagined. Eccentric, yes, everyone agreed on that, but she had lived her life to the full and maybe it wasn't such a sad end after all. Toshiko and Owen slipped away early to answer a Rift alert, not bothering to inform Jack; he deserved some time for himself. Gwen and Ianto circulated and met up when they both went to get a drink.

"Coffee's not as good as yours," commented Gwen under her breath. He smiled, wondering once more if that was all he would ever be remembered for. "Jack says you organised all this," she gestured vaguely round the decorated room and managed to encompass the church too. "You did a great job."

"Thank you." He sipped his coffee to hide his surprise at the compliment.

"If Rhys ever pops the question, fancy organising my wedding?" she asked, grinning broadly. He joined in her laughter.

"What's the joke?" asked Jack coming up to join them.

"My chances of getting hitched to Rhys! If, in the dim and distant future that day ever comes, I want Ianto here to organise the whole thing."

"I'll give him a recommendation. You did a great job today, Ianto." Jack clasped the boy's arm and smiled at him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Jack." Ianto was embarrassed but pleased to receive the praise and at sharing a joke with Gwen. It gave him hope that his future could be brighter than his past and that the constant pain of missing Lisa would eventually fade away.

"Hallelujah, he called me Jack!"

"So I did. Sorry, sir." Ianto was smiling broadly now too, at ease with his colleagues' company. It boded well for the future.

* * *

_Do review, I love getting your views._


	12. Sticking Around

_Sometime after Exit Wounds, Jack and Ianto get into a sticky situation .._

* * *

**Sticking Together**

Jack laughed so hard he collapsed onto the floor of the hothouse. He was gasping for breath as tears streamed down his face and he was making incoherent noises waving his arm about helplessly. Ianto watched him, as patiently as he could, and waited for the mirth to run its course. It was not funny at all, not one little bit. Finally, Jack pulled himself together and got to his knees looking up at his colleague.

"How?" he finally managed to say, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands.

"I was watering the plants. I put my hand down and couldn't pick it up again." Ianto looked down at the hand in question still attached to the bench. "It's been over an hour, Jack. I've been calling but you just sat in your office ignoring me."

"I didn't hear you, Ianto, honestly." He started giggling again. "You've been standing there for an hour?"

"Over an hour."

"Why didn't you use the comms?" Jack got to his feet, still grinning hugely. "That would have got me straight away."

The Welshman looked shamefaced. "I took it out, I usually do when it's only you and me in the Hub."

"Oh that explains a lot!" Jack had his arms folded across his chest. "You just like making me worry about you. Wonder where you are, if you're all right," he accused.

"I like you coming to find me." He looked at Jack meaningfully and the older man got the message.

"Oh."

"Yeah." They shared a knowing smile. "Now will you please get me unstuck." He pulled ineffectually on his right hand which was palm down on the bench in a small pool of sap.

"Depends. Do I get a reward?" Jack smirked, not moving.

"If you don't get your arse moving and get me out of here, I shall never make you coffee again." Ianto looked as fierce as he could, which was not very. His face was too handsome for fierceness.

"All right, all right, keep your hair on." Jack moved closer and looked at the hand and the sap it rested in. He pulled on Ianto's stuck arm and got nothing for his pains but a yelp from Ianto and a clout on his back. "Oow," he cried.

"I've tried pulling, it doesn't work. Hand stuck? My first instinct, Jack? Pull hand free. If all I had to do was pull, I would not be standing here. Pulling doesn't work!"

"Then we'll try something else, won't we? Calm down, Ianto." Jack spoke to the other man as if was a simpleton.

"If you keep talking to me like that, you definitely won't get any coffee!" snapped Ianto, tired of being stuck and tired of Jack's attitude. He clouted his boss to emphasise his point.

"If you keep hitting me I'm going back to the office and leaving you here!"

There was a tense silence as both men glared at one another before Jack went back to examining Ianto's stuck hand. The hand was flat on the bench and the palm, fingers and thumb were definitely stuck. Jack gently tried to raise the thumb, crouching down so his eyes were at the same level as the bench. Whatever was holding the hand in place, the sap, was set solid.

"I'm sorry," said Ianto, his shoulders slumping, "but I'm really tired of standing here. I can't even sit down," he said pathetically.

"Of course you are," replied Jack, smiling up at him. He stretched across and snagged a stool that had been just out of Ianto's reach. "Here, take the weight off." The Welshman sank down gratefully. "And I'm sorry I laughed at you." He rubbed the other man's thigh, the closest part of him.

"I suppose it is a bit funny."

"Just a bit," smiled Jack. He stood up again. "This stuff is set hard, looks like is acts as a form of natural superglue. There's some solvent in the Medical Bay that should work. I'll go and get it."

"Thanks." Ianto smiled up at him.

Jack stooped to place a kiss on the Welshman's lips. He cradled Ianto's head in both hands and explored his mouth, both of them enjoying the contact. Turning slightly to get a better angle, Jack perched on the edge of the bench – and when the kiss ended, he couldn't get up.

"Jack, you idiot!" screamed Ianto before going off into voluble Welsh.

"I didn't think -"

"That's your problem, you never think!"

"I was going to say, I didn't think there was any of the sap there! And stop shouting at me." Jack felt an absolute fool. How could he have been so stupid? He struggled but no matter how he shuffled about, he couldn't pull free.

"What did I tell you about pulling, Jack?" said Ianto ominously. "Surely you can't have forgotten already? Or are you so old you're going gaga?"

"I'll just have to get out of my trousers." Jack undid his belt and fly and tried to remove his trousers but, of course, they were stuck in place and would not fall down. "Oh well, won't be the first time I've done this." He took both sides of the fly and pulled it apart so that the garment split down the seam under his crotch.

"Jack!" Ianto, who was sitting within inches of the action, looked on in horror as his boss proceeded to rip the trouser leg seams as best he could until he had enough leeway to step out of them.

"Aha," Jack crowed as he stood in his underpants but free. The remains of his trousers were still attached to the bench. "Now there, Ianto, is a good example of the practicality of straight leg trousers. Would never have got my boots out of those that you wear." He looked remarkably proud of himself.

Ianto closed his eyes and sighed. "Just go and get the solvent. And don't touch anything on the way!"

"Your wish is my command." Jack made an elaborate bow, grinned and ran off down the stairs, shirt flapping around his nether regions.

In the hothouse, Ianto relaxed. He had really hoped for a quiet evening. A potter round the Hub on the last tasks of the day before some time with Jack, having a meal maybe or a drink, and sharing his quarters for the night. But no, this had to happen. He was so not in the mood any more; going home was top of his agenda now. The door alarm went off and Ianto stood up, trying to see where Jack was going and, to his horror, instead saw Gwen and Rhys walking in. What were they doing here?

"Hey, Gwen, Rhys" said Jack, jogging down the steps from the work area. "Gotta see to Ianto in the hothouse." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

The woman took one look at Jack's state of undress, turned Rhys round and walked out again. Disturbing them once up there was enough for her, she could live without any more images like that to haunt her dreams. "Don't ask, Rhys," she said as she pushed him before her.

Jack was clattering up the stairs and appeared at the hothouse door. "Got it." He brandished a bottle of liquid.

"What did you say to Gwen?" Ianto had seen the exchange but had not been able to hear what was said.

"Umm?" Jack was not listening, intent on dribbling the solvent around the stuck hand and brushing it against the sap.

"I said, what did you say to Gwen?"

"That I was coming to see you." Jack glanced up, eyebrows raised questioningly. "Why?"

"Because you've got no trousers on, that's why. God knows what she thinks we're doing up here!" He'd explain to her as soon as he was free, Ianto thought. A phone call would put matters straight, or a text. Thinking about it, perhaps it would be better to leave it until the morning, she was not going to believe him anyway.

"The same as she found us doing before, I expect." Jack was not interested, not caring what Gwen thought. "This is working." He was holding one of Ianto's fingers and gingerly pulling on it, pleased when it lifted off the bench. He dribbled more solvent. Ten minutes later, Ianto was free and he and Jack were descending back to the lower level.

"I still say it could be useful," argued Jack. "Anything that sticks that well could be used in all sorts of ways."

"Well don't ask me to test it."

"You already have," smiled Jack.

Ianto stopped and glared at him. "I've had enough for today, I'm going home." He walked to the cog door.

"Home? I thought you were staying tonight?" Jack stood by the pool, a ridiculous figure with his bare legs and boots. "Ah, Ianto! Come on, stick around a bit longer." It was only when the words were said that he saw the funny side and giggled.

Ianto stopped, turned very slowly and faced his boss. "That is not funny."

"Yes it is, just a bit. Come on, you said so yourself earlier." Jack closed the distance between them. "When adversity strikes, we should stick together," he spluttered, vainly trying to hold in his giggles.

"You want me to stick by you," responded Ianto, straight faced.

Jack was openly laughing now. "I am so stuck on you, Ianto Jones."

"I suppose I could stick it out a bit longer." He smiled.

In no time at all, they were in one another's arms locked in a kiss, lips glued together. Ianto did stay the night.

* * *

_Did you enjoy that? Hope so._


	13. After Mary

_This follows on from the last scene of Greeks Bearing Gifts and was inspired by a comment from Kitsa – thanks!_

* * *

**After Mary**

He was walking away, back to the lift and the Hub, back to the team who had witnessed the end of the alien 'Mary', when Jack stopped. This was wrong. Turning he went back to the bench where he had left Toshiko. She was still sitting there, looking lost and frightened.

"Come on, Tosh. I'll take you home."

"I'm all right."

"I know you are. I could do with some company." He smiled and she nodded. They knew they were both lying.

When she was standing, he took her hand and led her to the car park and her car. Taking the keys, he helped her inside and then walked round to the driver's side and got in. "Whoa! God, you're short," he said, scrabbling about to move the seat back. "Good job you don't like driving the SUV." He grinned at her, adjusted the rear view mirror and started the engine.

"That thing's too big. Feels like I'm driving a bus."

"Yeah, but it's cool."

She laughed, a small laugh but it sounded genuine. "And that's what matters?"

"Absolutely. Could you see me in a … well, in a Mini? Or a Skoda? That would really ruin my image." He flashed her another grin then concentrated on negotiating a roundabout. There was little traffic around but the city streets were never completely empty.

"And image is important."

Toshiko felt empty inside. The events of the evening – of the last few days – had drained her of energy and of feeling. She had been so happy with Mary, so pleased that someone had noticed her at last and wanted to spend time with her. It was not the first time she'd been with a woman but her earlier leanings in that direction had been years before when she was an adolescent and had a crush on an older woman. This time had meant more because she was an adult and understood fully what she was doing. But Mary had been using her, playing on her insecurities and her hang-ups, on her hopeless love for Owen. And now Mary was dead, burnt up in the sun where Jack had sent her.

She glanced across at Jack's profile and wondered why she didn't hate him. He had executed her lover as surely as he had executed Ianto's. Was he determined that they would be alone or were they useless at finding anyone decent? The latter, she admitted immediately. Poor Ianto, he was still suffering all these months after the Cyberwoman had been killed and from the events in the Brecon Beacons. He needed some help.

"Jack, when I was wearing the pendant I 'heard' Ianto's thoughts. He's really suffering still. We should do something for him."

He was nodding. "I know. I try, Tosh, but I don't think I'm getting through to him. Got any ideas?"

"Not really. I'll try and talk to him again, see if he'll open up."

"I'd be grateful. You might get through to him better than me." Jack turned the car into Toshiko's road and scanned for a parking place, seeing one at the far end. "The Beacons seemed to bring you two closer." He manoeuvred the car into the space.

"He saved my life."

"He says the same about you." Jack smiled across at her and turned off the engine. They both got out and Jack locked the vehicle before walking round to join her. "Gonna ask me in for coffee?"

She hesitated then smiled. "Sure." She would like company for a while.

Inside the flat, Toshiko went straight to the kitchen, dumping her bag on the side with her leather jacket. She started preparations for coffee, trying to forget the images of Mary here in this space: by the fridge, by the central island. They had reached out to one another and Toshiko had thought she had found someone who understood and cared for her. She recalled seeing Mary's true appearance and the wonder and awe at the transformation. The alien had been beautiful, so unlike the Weevils Toshiko saw everyday, and yet she too had been a vicious killer. And all the time, Mary had been using her to get into the Hub and retrieve the transporter.

"It'll get better." Jack stood behind Toshiko and wrapped his arms around her holding her close. "I promise."

He had removed his greatcoat and snooped round the flat. It had been a while since he had last been here and Toshiko had made changes. The Eastern influence was obvious and yet restrained and he liked what she had done with the place. With a smile, he remembered the wet Sunday afternoon when he had found her up a ladder painting the dragon on the Hub wall and had turned to remind her of it when he saw she was crying. Silent tears were running down her face and yet she looked oblivious of them. Her pain had called to him and he had gone to her.

Jack's touch alerted Toshiko to the tears and she wiped at her face angrily. She had been taken in by a smooth talking criminal from another planet like a gullible fool and yet she was crying for Mary. Turning, Toshiko buried her face in Jack's shoulder and wept some more. She stayed there until the first wave of tears had passed and then stirred.

"I'll just go and wash my face," she said, managing a tremulous smile and briefly meeting his gaze.

"Okay. I'll make the coffee."

Pottering round the kitchen, Jack found mugs and also a packet of chocolate biscuits. He made the coffee and placed mugs and biscuits on a tray and took it into the living room. Sipping the drink, he looked round at the tasteful décor, stopping at the bookcase to check out the titles before sitting down in a chair. Five minutes later, Toshiko reappeared. She had taken off her make-up and changed into loose trousers and a sweater, the whole effect taking ten years off her appearance.

"I see you found the biscuits," she said, sitting on the couch and smiling at Jack. She curled her legs under her and took the mug of coffee which she held in both hands.

"Hope you don't mind. I love chocolate digestives and Ianto won't keep them in the Hub any more." He rolled his eyes and reached for a biscuit, his third.

"I keep them for emergencies, for when I'm feeling low." She sipped the coffee.

"Tuck in then." Jack held out the packet, he had not bothered with a plate.

"Thanks." She took a couple, putting one beside her and biting into the other. "I loved her," she said after a small silence.

"I know."

"I shouldn't have brought her into the Hub. I'm sorry."

"We all make mistakes from time to time, even me." He said this with such an air of surprise that it made her smile. He downed the last of his coffee and put the mug on the tray. Taking another biscuit, he moved to sit beside Toshiko. "Tell me," he said, putting an arm around her, "what's made you so unhappy that you're picking up strange women in bars?"

"Who said I'm unhappy? And you pick up strange women - and men - in bars all the time."

"Ah, but I'm different. And I know you're unhappy, it doesn't take a genius to see that. I'm always willing to listen if you want to talk." He put an arm round her and pulled her towards him. She resisted then relented and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I just feel so out of things now. Suzie may have been a murderer but I liked her and we had something in common, something to talk about. Gwen's so different and now she and Owen are … Well, you know what they're up to."

"What Owen always does."

"Except with me!" Toshiko pulled herself upright and slammed the mug down, keeping her gaze well away from Jack. "Am I so ugly that he doesn't want to sleep with me? Am I so repulsive?"

"You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, Tosh. You knock Gwen into a cocked hat any day of the week. Just because Owen can't see it, doesn't mean you're not." He had her by the shoulders, facing him, looking into her eyes. "You know his trouble? He can't get over the fact that you're so much cleverer than him. He prefers the bimbos."

"Suzie wasn't a bimbo."

"No, but then she seduced Owen not the other way around." Toshiko looked up sharply. "Oh, she did," he confirmed with a grin. "Made it look like he was making the running but he never stood a chance."

Jack remembered the first time Owen had met Suzie and the interest she had shown afterwards. She had been as much of a man-eater as he was a womaniser though she hid it better. Jack had been sure the two would get together and had been proved right quicker than he had anticipated. The affair, which had gone on for a few months, had not touched either of them emotionally and when it had ended they had been able to continue working together without a problem. It was more complicated this time as Gwen had commitments outside Torchwood and Jack had no idea how matters would pan out. It would probably end in tears.

"I didn't know that. Doesn't change the fact that he doesn't want me."

"And you want him." He had not realised how strongly Toshiko felt about Owen. This was love, unrequited love but love nonetheless and he had personal experience of how strong that could be.

"Yes," she admitted. "I am such a loser." She managed a smile.

"No you're not." He pulled her into his arms again and settled back into the couch, getting comfortable. "If you want him, you're going to have to fight for him. Make him see what's he missing."

"I don't think I can do that. I don't think I want to do that. If he doesn't want me, I'm not going to force him."

"Who said anything about forcing him? We could always get hot and heavy and make him jealous," he suggested, a smile on his face and in his voice. He was delighted when she laughed.

"And what about Ianto?" It was out before she realised and she cringed at her tactlessness.

"What about him? You got a thing going with him?"

"No."

"Then what?" Jack was mystified and craned his neck to look down at her. "Tosh?"

"He likes you and you like him."

Jack stayed silent. He was attracted to Ianto, it was true, but he had no idea the boy felt anything for him. They had achieved a measure of tolerance after the affair of Lisa but Jack had not considered it would progress to anything more. "He likes me? You sure? He told you this?"

"He's not said anything but I can see how he feels. He's shy, give him an opening and he'll tell you himself." She snuggled closer under Jack's arm, glad the conversation had moved away from her own troubles.

"I might just do that," he said smugly. A fling with Ianto could be fun.

Toshiko laughed at his tone of voice. "You are so not like a 'regular boss'. You should have suspended me for bringing Mary into the Hub, insisted we keep the pendant and certainly not be advising me on my love life or lack thereof."

"You want me to change?" He rested his head on hers.

"No."

"Good, don't think I could now."

They sat in silence for a while with their own thoughts of the future. Jack was thinking about his recent interactions with Ianto and realising that there had been indications – small ones, admittedly – that the man did not loathe him as he had a few months before. It would be interesting to see what came of that. In his arms, Toshiko was resigning herself to more days, weeks, months and even years of loneliness as she pined for Owen and he looked at every woman but the one that loved him. Her work would have to fill the emptiness.

"It's getting late," she said eventually, sitting up. "Thanks for staying with me."

"I can stay a bit longer, if you want."

"No, I'm going to go to bed."

"Want some company?" he offered. Jack knew she would refuse. They had never been lovers, their relationship was nearer mentor and protégé or even father and daughter.

"No! Go, Jack. Go back to that hole in the ground you call home." She was smiling, glad he continued to treat her the same as always despite the day's events.

"You don't know what you're missing, girl." He grinned and stood up, pulling Toshiko to her feet with him. "Last chance?"

"Thanks, but no thanks."

When he had gone, ordering her to take holiday the following day, she was smiling as she cleared up the mugs and put the remains of the biscuits back in the cupboard. She would take each day as it came and who knew what would happen.

* * *

_I always thought that, at the end of this episode, Jack should have at least given Toshiko a hug. I hope you agree that this story rights that omission on the part of the scriptwriters. _


	14. Billy

_A short story set shortly after Exit Wounds_

* * *

**Billy**

The streets of Cardiff were wet with the remains of the storm that had passed over earlier in the day. Puddles lay across the pavements reflecting the street lights' orange glow. Jack Harkness pulled his greatcoat around himself and did up the buttons. He normally preferred to keep the coat open but the chill wind was cutting through him.

Turning up an alley he entered the maze of old streets and new underpasses that muddled together in this evolving city. Cardiff's centre had changed so much in recent years, wiping out most of the reminders of its industrial past in a rush to become a twenty first century city full of shopping opportunities, tourist amenities and flats, block upon block of flats. Jack was underneath a block of the flats now. They looked fine from street level but here, behind the fancy façade, were the service ways and odd corners the developers had created or ignored. Now they were home to the people who had nowhere else to go, the abandoned of the city who wandered in and stayed in the comparatively dry surroundings.

Many eyes watched Jack as he strode along. He was a well known figure to the long term residents of this underground labyrinth and for the most part they liked him. He brought food occasionally and could be tapped up for a quid or two but only when he was in a good mood, when he strolled along taking his time. It was best not to approach when he strode along in a hurry like he was doing now. The watching eyes noted his passing but didn't try to stop him. They weren't foolish. Aware of the scrutiny but ignoring it, Jack strode on. He checked his wrist controls and made a right turn into a narrow tunnel under a wing of the flats above.

Ianto had brought the news to him earlier, in the Hub. They had been alone as was often the case now Gwen made more effort to get home to Rhys when the Rift allowed. The two men didn't mind, pleased to see her recovering from their losses and welcoming the privacy to comfort one another through the same pain. Ianto's news had brought yet more pain.

"Jack, I've been going through the latest list of the dead."

"What for? It only reminds you." Jack looked up from the well of the Medical Bay where he was searching for a small, sharp knife. He thought there would be one among the medical equipment.

"I was updating the records," continued Ianto, unperturbed. It was an old dispute between them. "Billy's sister died, Moira. I wondered if he would know as she's only just been identified."

Jack sighed and looked off into the distance. Billy Turner had lost a lot in his life and now he had lost something, someone else. "He may do, he reads the papers when he comes across them." Used them to line his clothing and his cardboard box home too.

"I just thought you'd want to know." Ianto stayed at the railing looking down on his boss. Jack was still edgy, the result of his centuries long entombment, but he was functioning better every day. Only late in the day, like now, did the signs emerge again from wherever he hid them during the daylight hours.

"Yeah. I'll go and see him. Make sure he does know." Jack gave up his search and climbed the stairs to join Ianto. "Any more details?"

"She was walking home from bingo and was crushed by falling masonry caused by the explosions. Killed instantly." The two men were now standing in the work area. "Let me make him a thermos of coffee. Billy likes my coffee."

"Everybody likes your coffee."

The thermos was in a pocket of the greatcoat as Jack walked deeper into the murky tunnel-like access. It reminded him of Ianto and he smiled. That man had been a rock for him and Gwen, always putting their needs before his own. They had both needed him but now it was time for Ianto to get some comforting too. Jack resolved to start that evening, when he got back to the Hub.

"Billy," he called as he neared the corner where the man had his … nest. "Billy, you there? It's Jack."

"Over here, Captain," came the familiar, husky voice and a lighter sparked briefly in the dark followed by soft candlelight. "What brings you down here?"

"Wanted a chat," said Jack, getting closer.

Billy was cocooned in a ratty old sleeping bag with filthy blankets and plastic bin liners over the top. He was wedged inside a large cardboard box, the sort electrical appliances come in, which had been laid on its side. All around him, Billy had secreted his possessions, guarding them against theft by those even more worse off than himself. The smell was of urine, unwashed body and clothes and general unhealthiness.

"Oh yeah?" Billy chuckled. "I'll believe that when the little green men come and take me away."

"Could be sooner than you think, Billy, it really could." He crouched down and sat on a folded up cardboard box that Billy had put into position for him, like a regular visitor's chair. "Okay, I have news for you. I also have some coffee, courtesy of Ianto."

The old man's face brightened and there was flash of yellow teeth. "Let's have it then. Love that boy's coffee." He looked up from his reclined position at Jack. "Got anything to put in it?"

"You think it needs it?" Jack had removed the thermos and was unscrewing the cup on top. He poured some of the fragrant liquid into a dirty mug Billy had pulled from somewhere and then some for himself in the thermos' cup. Replacing the screw top, he reached into another pocket for a half bottle of whisky and passed this over. "There you are, don't drink it all at once."

The two men drank in silence, savouring the coffee. Billy was not a drunkard but a nip of whisky helped keep the cold and damp at bay and eased his rheumatism. He had been a successful builder until his wife and son had been killed in a hit and run car accident and he had spiralled downwards. He'd lost the business, his home and taken to the streets where he had survived for more than ten years now. Good going by anyone's standards. He had avoided disputes with stronger or drug-crazed fellow down-and-outs and never touched the drugs that were freely available. By using the shelters from time to time, he kept relatively healthy and was a good source of gossip about strange goings-on around the city. Jack had known him for eight years and cultivated him as a reliable informant.

"What's your news then?" Billy asked when he'd drunk most of the mug of coffee. He reached across and poured some more adding a tot of whisky. "Bad is it?"

"Afraid so. It's Moira. She was killed in the explosions a couple of weeks back. She's only just been identified."

"Poor old Moira. She was the only one who would give me the time of day, you know? Used to drop in on her once or twice a year, just to catch up with her news." Billy stared into his mug and then took a swig. "No one in the family to see now then."

They drank in silence a bit longer as the candle Billy had lit guttered in a sudden draught. Then Billy started to talk, telling Jack about a childhood the two siblings had shared. He detailed many instances of shared fun and happiness and Jack listened, content to keep the old man company as he talked on. Finally, Billy's voice tailed off and they sat in silence until Jack made a move to leave.

"Thanks for coming, Jack. Kind of you."

"I wanted to make sure you knew, Billy. There's a bit more coffee here, if you want it." He poured the beverage into the proffered mug. "Drop by the Tourist Office sometime and Ianto'll make you some more."

"May just do that. It was a bad do, all those explosions. Something to do with you, was it?" The bright eyes were trained on Jack's face and didn't miss the tightening of the muscles round the eyes even in the uncertain light.

"We were involved. I lost some people I cared about too." Jack managed a weak smile and stood up, thrusting the thermos back in a pocket. "Here." He pressed a twenty pound note into Billy's hand. "See you around."

"That you will, Captain. Life goes on whether we want it to or not, isn't that right?"

"It certainly is."

With a wave of his hand, Jack turned and made his way back through the concrete and brick. He strode along purposefully, eager to get out into the open and to breathe in the fresher air, eager to get back to Ianto. He was almost running when he entered the Hub, hoping the man had waited for him and not gone back to his flat. The place was quiet and Jack's hope faltered for a moment but then he spotted the Welshman on the couch, asleep with his head leaning on the back.

"Ianto, wake up." Jack sat next to the other man and gently shook his arm. "That's better," he said as the man's eyes opened.

"You're back." Ianto's eyes focussed on Jack and he smiled. "How was Billy?"

"Sad. Talked about his childhood a lot; he and Moira were close." Jack pulled Ianto towards him and rested the man's head on his shoulder. "I'm glad I was able to break the news to him. Thanks for thinking of him."

"I like him."

"You like everybody."

"No I don't." Ianto said nothing more, both men knew he was thinking of John Hart. The Welshman would never forgive him for bringing Gray into their lives and causing the deaths of Owen and Toshiko no matter what he had done to help them recover Jack.

"Do you want to go out? Have a drink?" asked Jack before the silence became oppressive.

"If you like." It was the first time Jack had suggested going out since the events with Gray.

"Good."

The two men put on their coats and walked from the Hub. At the railings looking over the Bay, Jack stopped and took Ianto's hand. "Thank you, Ianto, for being here for me. It means a lot."

"It's nothing." Ianto shrugged, uncomfortable with any kind of thanks or praise.

"That's not true. I'm here for you too, Ianto. I may not say it often – or even at all! – but I am. I love you."

"I know."

The two men shared a soft kiss and then with a smile they walked on to the bars and cafes of Mermaid Quay. They had suffered the loss of two people close to them but they were facing the future with hope and a determination that it would get better. As Billy had said, life goes on.

* * *

_I'm not sure if that turned out sad or hopeful. Hope you enjoyed it anyway ..._


	15. The Day After

_This takes places the day after the end of They Keep Killing Suzie. Ianto is nervous .._

* * *

**The Day After**

"Good morning, Ianto," said Jack brightly coming across the man near the coffee machine. "Sleep well?"

"Yes thank you, sir."

"Good, good. Bring my coffee up to the office when you're ready, I'd like a word." Jack bounded off, whistling.

"He's happy," commented Toshiko, taking her coffee and staring after her leader. "You'd think he might be a bit affected by what happened yesterday." She sidestepped quickly as Ianto started violently and almost dropped the Captain's coffee. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes," he said quickly, putting the coffee down and reaching for a cloth to clean the spill.

"Not surprised you're on edge. I would be after what you did last night." She wandered away to her desk not noticing the stunned stillness of the Welshman and his pale face.

"Your coffee. Sir." Ianto placed the mug down on the desk, hard enough to cause ripples on the surface and a small dribble to run down the side.

"Are you okay, Ianto?" The man was usually so careful with the drinks.

"No. I thought we -" he broke off and closed the office door before resuming his place in front of Jack's desk. "I thought you agreed to say nothing about last night."

"What about last night?" asked Jack casually, smiling warmly.

"You know what I'm talking about!" Ianto's hands formed fists as he ground out the words.

"Oh, that." The smile did not change. "I haven't said anything to anyone, Ianto, as per our agreement. I wanted you to come in here to -"

"Then how does Tosh know all about it?!"

Jack looked at the woman through the office wall frowning. "Impossible. I swear I haven't said anything about how … accommodating you were last night. You and your stopwatch."

"Jack," began Ianto threateningly.

"Honestly. And I wiped the CCTV so there was nothing there either." He sat back in his chair. "Are you sure you're not reading more into this that was said or meant?"

Ianto thought a moment. Toshiko had not actually mentioned he and Jack … in this office … over the desk … Ianto gulped as he remembered the events of the night before and reddened. "She didn't actually mention … us but -"

"So she was probably referring to the whole Suzie resurrection thing! You are too sensitive, Ianto. Now, I wanted to mention two things. One, you need to buy a new stopwatch to replace this one." He held up a dented stopwatch with broken glass. "I found it under the desk when I was putting the office back to rights. And two, are you okay?" The last was said quietly and with a sincerity Ianto had rarely heard from Jack, there was a real caring in his voice.

Ianto closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. Seducing his boss the night before had been fantastic but the consequences were getting to him. He was desperate to keep the whole thing quiet and very aware of how much Jack liked to talk about his conquests. "I'm fine, thank you. I'll see about a new watch." He reached out to take the stopwatch but Jack did not release it immediately so their hands were joined over it.

"Sooner the better. We may need it again." Jack released the stopwatch and picked up his coffee. He waited until Ianto had turned to leave and was almost at the door before adding, "And for the record, I don't go back on my word."

Later in the morning, when Jack had gone out and Gwen and Owen were off somewhere too, Ianto took the opportunity to speak to Toshiko. "It was pretty mad yesterday, wasn't it?" he said as an opener.

"Tell me about it!" She was shaking her head. "The stuff we have to do is bad enough but after she went off on her murder spree it made so much harder to live with."

"At least we got the right result this time."

"And four more people died! Those Pilgrim people had done nothing wrong, they were just trying to understand themselves better, to talk about issues and concerns, and Suzie waltzes in and makes one of them a murderer of three others. Then," she exclaimed, "then she goes and murders her own father!"

"Amazing how she planned it so far in advance."

"Yes." Toshiko was silent for a moment or two. "I thought I knew her, thought we were friends and all the time she was planning this. It could have been any one using that Glove," she said earnestly, looking up at him. "She could have linked to me or you and killed us and she didn't care."

Ianto had a pang of guilt, he had put the team in danger too and not so long ago but he didn't mention it. "You said earlier that I was on edge. I wondered what made you think that." He waited with bated breath.

"Well, you had to clear it all up. He sent the rest of us home but made you stay and carry on alone. It's not fair, Ianto. If he's still not forgiven you for … well, you know. You've got to stand up to him."

He was relieved that this was all she had meant. "I will. You be okay if I nip out and get us some lunch now? Gwen and Owen are due back anytime."

"Sure." She smiled and patted his hand encouragingly before turning back to her computers.

He left the Hub, grinning now she could not see him. He did not intend to stand up to Jack Harkness, he planned on lying down, bending over … whatever! He was going to take all the Captain was willing to give him. These happy thoughts kept him in a good mood through the hustle and bustle of Tesco and waiting ten minutes in the queue to pay for the sandwiches, salads and wraps that were today's lunch. He was still happy when he returned to the Hub and walked up to the work area where the others were gathered.

"Well, didn't you ask him who?" pressed Gwen. "Tosh, he'd have told you."

"I didn't think it was any of my business."

"Tea-boy! Someone sane to talk to at last. Hand us my sarnie." Owen held out his hand and waited.

"I don't think that's the first time you've ever said anything nice about me," commented Ianto. He dug out the chicken curry sandwich and handed it over.

"Women lose their marbles when they see a bunch of flowers." He ripped open the package and took a large bite.

"Flowers?"

"Jack has got this enormous, and I mean enormous, bouquet of flowers. It's in his office, see?" Gwen pointed. "Told Tosh it's a thank you for someone who went above and beyond the call of duty yesterday."

The carrier bag of food fell from Ianto's suddenly nerveless hands and spilled its contents on the floor. Surely Jack had not done this after what he had said this morning? He could have. He could be intending to give Ianto the flowers. Not in front of the rest of the team maybe, probably later after they'd gone, but they'd still seen them. They were still asking questions. Jack just could not be trusted!

"Butterfingers!" called Owen from his seat on the couch, his mouth full of chicken.

"Let me help," offered Gwen immediately and started picking up the packages. "Jack's going to a hell of a lot of trouble," she said, head close to Ianto's as they both knelt down, "whoever the flowers are for. Even put them in a bucket of water. And they must have cost a fortune."

Somehow, Ianto managed to distribute the food and make coffee as Gwen and the others continued to discuss the flowers and their intended recipient. Jack made a late appearance and Ianto was able to take his food and drink and disappear up to the Tourist Office. As he ate, he thought about the flowers and grew more and more convinced Jack had brought them for him. Who else could it possibly be? He was both embarrassed and offended: he was not some bimbo to be bought a gift in 'payment' for a shag. Was that what Jack thought last night had been about?

He stayed in the Tourist Office for as long as he could but by mid-afternoon Ianto had no excuse not to go downstairs. He was collecting up papers for filing from the others' desks when Jack bounded up to him with the flowers – which were admittedly a huge bouquet – in hand. Ianto wished the floor would open up and swallow him; the man was going to present them to him.

"Just the man I wanted to see," said Jack, grinning broadly as Ianto's heart sank into his boots. "I need your help with some research so hang on until I get back. The rest of you can leave when you're ready but keep your mobiles on." And then he was off, past Ianto, on the way to the cog door flowers still in hand.

"Hang on," called Gwen, standing and following him. "Who they for then?" she nodded to the flowers.

Jack stood and looked around, seeing the whole team was interested. "Who helped us out yesterday?" The looked back at him blankly. "Kathy Swanson, of course. Gotta look after our boys and girls in blue." He grinned, turned on his heel and was gone out of the door.

Owen and Gwen began packing up straightaway and were out of the door five minutes after Jack. Toshiko lingered a bit longer.

"It's really not fair, Ianto. You're going to be stuck here late again tonight." She looked across at him worriedly as she put her glasses in her bag and picked up her coat.

"It's all right, Tosh. I don't mind."

He smiled as she finally left him alone in the Hub. Alone for the moment anyway. Jack would be back soon and then … and then. Ianto felt drained after the scares of the day, scares he had imagined for himself. Jack had done nothing to indicate to the others that their relationship had changed in any way, he had been as good as his word. It was Ianto who was likely to give the game away if he didn't stop being so sensitive to every passing comment. He must stop himself reacting or the cat would be out of the bag in no time and Ianto did not want that, did not want anything to spoil the pleasure of getting to know Jack.

Because Ianto intended to get to know Jack very well indeed.

* * *

_Please let me know what you think of this little story._


	16. Breaking News

_This is set after Exit Wounds when the team is settling back to work._

* * *

**Breaking News**

The city of Cardiff was operating normally again after the explosions two weeks earlier. Communications and transport links were running normally and anyone looking on from a mile or two above would have seen little visible evidence of the disruption that had wreaked havoc on the city, leaving many dead and even more to mourn. For the most part, the citizens were going about their business as normal. There was some grumbling when shops were not fully stocked due to disruptions in supply and when it was necessary to detour round the cordoned off streets containing gaping holes where bombed buildings had once stood.

Ianto Jones walked along these same streets and marvelled at the resilience of the people around him. His wonder was surprising as he was one of the most resilient people in the city. He had suffered more loss in his twenty five years than most, some very recently, yet he still had hope in the future. Looking at him, it would have been hard to categorise him, he blended in with everyone else so well. He could have been an office worker, a civil servant, a teacher or doctor, possibly even a student although most students dressed less formally. He could even have been a barista in one of the many coffee houses, a job for which he was more than qualified. Anyone saying he was an alien hunter who routinely carried a gun and knew how to use it would have been laughed at and yet it was the truth. Cardiff, sitting under a Rift in space and time, had had more alien incursions than London and yet the Welsh city's citizens were oblivious or uncaring. They would never have evacuated their city at Christmas as the Londoners had the year before. 'No backbone, the English' had been their refrain.

Turning down a side street, Ianto entered a pub that developers and brewery chains had passed by. It was a haunt of local people and those few tourists who ventured off the main streets. Ianto looked around, spotted the man he had come to meet and crossed to his table, taking the seat opposite him.

"Hey, Ianto, thanks for coming."

"You said you had some information." Ianto looked at the man's almost empty glass. "Want a drink?"

"Another of these, please." Ianto got up and went to the bar. It was early and the place was empty except for the two men and a couple of women chatting in the corner. The bored bartender was using the time to rearrange boxes of crisps and other snacks for when it got busier. "Scotch and soda and a Guinness," he ordered and waited while they were poured. Pocketing his change, he walked back to the table and the man waiting there.

Huw Price was forty six, divorced with a teenaged son he never saw. He had a huge overdraft, was late in his child support payments and lived in a room in a run down part of Splott. While Ianto knew all this and more, the reason he was meeting him was that Huw was a journalist for the _South Wales Echo_. He was based in Cardiff covering business matters and had been helpful to Torchwood in the past. His main point of contact had been Suzie Costello and at Jack's request Ianto had looked him up after her death (the first one) and maintained the link. They rarely met, any tips coming by 'phone or e-mail, and Ianto was curious about why Huw had wanted this meeting.

Downing the last of his first scotch, Huw said, "Thanks, mate. I've been looking into something that looks like it might be in your line. But it's a bit sensitive, thought it best to meet up."

"I'm listening." Ianto sipped his Guinness. Jack had encouraged him to try the drink and he now enjoyed one occasionally.

"Ever heard of BTJ?" Ianto shook his head. "New company," went on Huw, "just set up shop in the city. They're into electronic security and according to my source their stuff is good."

"What sort of stuff are we talking about?"

"Protection for all those personal computers and laptops we can't seem to live without. And for mobiles and Blackberries and their ilk. Their products are supposed to ensure that no one can hack into your system or spy on what you're doing." Huw took a drink. "The strange thing is, no one had heard of them until a month ago and now this product is available to download by every Tom, Dick and Harry with forty quid to spend. My source, who knows this business, says it's impossible a company with a product as good as this one can emerge like that. The rest of the industry would have got wind of it long before now."

"I can see it may be odd but why would it be anything for us?" Huw knew about Torchwood – it was the worst kept secret in Cardiff – and what it did. He would not bother them unless there was more than he had said so far.

Huw leaned in closer to Ianto who could smell the whisky on the man's breath. A crowd of office workers entered and sat at a table nearby; Huw lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. "My man got a copy, wanted to try it out and see what it could do. He reckons it's totally new, doesn't work like other programs he's ever come across and he's been in the game over twenty years. As well as that, it makes links into the PC or mobile, whatever it is, that aren't necessary and uses the spare space on the computer. My man has no idea what it's doing but it's definitely not kosher."

Ianto sipped his drink and his mind flashed back to Harold Saxon who had used the Archangel Network to send subliminal messages through mobile phones and got himself elected Prime Minister. Anyone using spyware to infiltrate PCs and mobiles would have a platform to achieve almost anything. Everyone, even Ianto's old granny, had a mobile and most people had a computer of some sort.

"Have you got the details? I'd like to look into this."

"Wrote it down for you." Huw handed over a scrap of paper. "I tried getting into their offices but got nowhere. Couldn't even find an office boy going in and out of there. If there is anything to this, you'll give me the word?" This was their arrangement. If there was a story to be had out of his tips, Huw wanted an exclusive.

"Of course." Ianto downed his Guinness. "I have to get back. Can I get you another before I go?" He nodded to the half empty tumbler.

"No, that's all right, thanks."

With a quick goodbye, Ianto left the pub and walked back to the Hub. After checking with Gwen, he stopped at Jubilee Pizza and got lunch for the two of them. Jack was out as he had been at odd times every day since they had lost Owen and Toshiko. The man was finding it hard to come to terms with their losses and his own experience of being buried for so long. He had told Ianto he needed time to himself, in the open. But Ianto had not believed him, fearing Jack would disappear again without a word, so had followed him a couple of times to make sure and found him standing on a roof on both occasions. There was no danger of him jumping and Ianto was reassured but that had not stopped him sewing a tracking beacon into Jack's greatcoat so he could check on him, just in case.

"Oh lunch, that smells so good." Gwen swung round from her desk, which had been Owen's, and smiled at Ianto. She was coming through her grief and trying very hard to be positive and upbeat. She took the box Ianto handed her.

"Coffee?" he asked putting his pizza on the desk that was now his and had been Toshiko's.

"Never say no to your coffee, sweetheart, you know that."

With the coffee made, the two operatives tucked into their lunch, chatting about anything they could think of. Both found the Hub immeasurably larger and quieter now there were only three people working there and compensated by making the effort to talk more. Lunch eaten, Gwen went back to her research and Ianto cleared up. Back at his desk, he checked the tracker to see where Jack was and used the CCTV to see the man on a roof in the centre of Cardiff. He'd been gone almost two hours and would be back soon if previous experience was anything to go by.

Fishing out the scrap of paper Huw had given him, Ianto began checking on BTJ. As so often happened, he got absorbed in his work tracking through the myriad pathways of the internet and other less public computer links available only to Torchwood to find out all he could about the company, its founders and the products they were selling. Time passed and he was vaguely aware of Jack's return and heard him and Gwen talking but did not give it any more than part of his attention. Huw Price had been right yet again, there was something very fishy going on with BTJ.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he smelt Jack's unique scent as the man stood behind him. "I have died many deaths as you know, Ianto, but this one is going to be messy."

Ianto turned quickly, still alarmed by the casual way in which Jack spoke about dying. "What? What's the matter? Are you ill?"

"I am about to die of coffee deprivation if I don't get a mug of your fabulous brew in the next," he checked his watch melodramatically, "five minutes." Jack grinned at him and Gwen chortled.

Ianto smiled. "I'll make you one. Gwen?"

"Please," she nodded enthusiastically.

"When you've got a minute, Jack, I'd like to show you something." Ianto continued saving his work on the screens.

"Do I have to leave?" queried Gwen innocently.

"No, we like an audience," replied Jack immediately to more laughter. "Or a threesome, could always do a threesome." Jack sat on the sofa and continued his banter with Gwen while Ianto went off to make coffee. It was good to be light hearted again, they had been solemn for long enough.

"So, what's on your mind, Ianto?" asked Jack. He had taken a long drink of his coffee and made enough noises of appreciation to prove it had staved off that predicted messy death.

Putting aside his own drink, Ianto explained. "Huw Price gave me a tip off about a new company in the electronic security market. BTJ have arrived in the city and started selling a state of the art product for PCs, laptops, mobiles etc. The competitors have nothing to match it and it's rapidly gaining a foothold in the market."

"But it's dodgy?" queried Gwen.

"It's alien."

"Show me," said Jack seriously and got up to stand behind Ianto's chair. Gwen scooted across in her chair to look at the screens too.

"I went on-line and bought the product, Complete Security, just like any other PC user might and downloaded it into a stand-alone computer, one of the old ones we've had lying around for years. This is what happened." He pressed a few keys and the screen changed to show a diagram of the internal workings of the stand-alone PC. "In the first five minutes the program removed all existing security and installed its own along with an aggressive form of spyware. Within fifteen minutes, it had identified all spare capacity on the hard drive and filled it. The PC works fine, a tiny bit slower perhaps, but an ordinary user would have no idea his computer was being used by someone else."

Jack was peering at the screen. "That technology," he mused, "it's vaguely familiar. Definitely alien."

"I ran a comparison, to see if we could identify it. It's Cryst'ipol."

"Yeah, recognise it now."

"Who or what are the Cryst'ipol?" asked Gwen, looking from the screen to Jack and back again.

"The Cryst'ipol died out hundreds of years ago, some pandemic or other, but before that they were known for their technology. The planet's resources were scavenged by every race that could get there in time. People in any system will pay through the nose for the technology. You see, it can adapt itself to any other form of technology, however primitive, and give it an instant upgrade." Jack was pacing now. "Someone with access to Cryst'ipol technology would have a field day here. Computers are connected to one another via the internet and the communications network is vast yet security is woefully inadequate." He continued pacing but said nothing more.

Gwen looked at Ianto and then back at Jack. "But why would they want to upgrade all the computers?" she asked. It was one of Gwen's strengths to cut to the chase by asking the obvious question that others shied away from.

"They don't. Whoever's using this, whoever's in control, is using the spare computing capacity for something more, something big," replied Jack. "What do we know about the company?"

Ianto replied. "It was supposedly founded a year ago by two brothers, Mark and Simon Featherstone, who according to BTJ's website developed the product in their bedroom at home. I've checked their history and it's all bogus, there are no such people." By this time, Ianto had the BTJ website up on one of the screens and Jack and Gwen were peering at the picture of the men. "I ran a trace and these pictures are of Thomas Watson and Franz Dressler, two exchange students at the University six years ago. Watson is now a dentist in Seattle and Dressler an insurance salesman in Berlin. The company registration was placed a month ago but made to look older."

"How interesting." Jack stood back and grinned. "I think we should visit BTJ and meet the people masquerading as the Featherstones, don't you?" This was the first new case to come up that he felt interested in and keen to investigate. He felt he had turned a corner and wanted to share his returning enthusiasm with the others.

The three of them blagged their way into the BTJ offices without difficulty; female receptionists always caved in when exposed to the full force of Jack's charm. The company had a floor in a modern office block, all concrete and glass, and Jack's eyes lit up at the thought of photocopiers and the like. He was disappointed when they reached the correct floor and jemmied the locks as the offices were empty of any of the usual desks, telephones … and people. Instead, there were four small, thin creatures perched on poles clustered around an object of abstract design that pulsated with a white light to which the creatures were telepathically linked.

"Fitteline," said Jack, striding up to the perches and picking up the pulsating object. He put his fingers in a few depressions and the light slowed and then stopped. The creatures around him sagged on their perches and each opened their single huge eye situated in the centre of their bodies. Jack stood for several minutes looking at them and concentrating hard.

"What's he doing?" asked Gwen, watching the Torchwood leader.

"Telepathy, I think," replied Ianto.

Jack made a grimace of distaste and passed the object to Ianto. "This is Cryst'ipol and we need to secure it. These idiots," he gestured to the Fitteline, "were trying to use it to open the Rift and let in more of their kind."

"And that would be bad because …?" queried Gwen.

"Because they breed like rabbits and Earth would be overrun in weeks. They've ruined enough of my favourite planets, I'm not letting them have this one. We'll take them back to base and send them back where they came from when we can. Just keep them in separate cells," he warned Ianto, "or we won't be able to move for them."

Jack showed the others how to truss up the creatures – which had no obvious appendages but huge genitals – and each was bundled into a black sack which Ianto obtained from the receptionist downstairs. With the Cryst'ipol artefact also wrapped up, the three Torchwood operatives left the building and returned to the Hub.

While Ianto was off securing the Fitteline, Gwen and Jack looked at the artefact. "How could those creatures create a company and their security program without anyone seeing them or suspecting anything?" asked Gwen.

"No one needs to meet face to face anymore. Using this piece of kit they could develop the product very quickly but I expect they used a website designer for their public face. And he, or she, would do all their work on-line. That would be all they needed, that and an office address of the right status for what they were selling."

"And they could have opened the Rift?"

"Oh yes. Using the spare capacity on all the computers there were expecting to infiltrate, this box of tricks would have worked out how to do it in no time. It's very sophisticated."

"Tosh would have loved it," said Gwen wistfully, missing the woman.

"She would have had a ball with this one," Jack agreed, smiling. They were able to talk of their lost colleagues now without being overwhelmed by grief.

"And the people who bought the program, what happens to them?"

Jack's smile broadened. "When I disconnected this thing," he patted the artefact, "I crashed their computers, mobiles, the whole kit and caboodle."

"Did I hear that right?" asked Ianto, coming up to join them. "All those people are cut off?" He was at his desk checking the stand-alone.

"Uh huh. Can you imagine the uproar?" He was still smiling, "They'll have to talk to one another face to face instead."

"Not sure some of them would know how. My friend, Sue, still lives at home and texts her mother from her bedroom telling her what she wants for breakfast!" Gwen was smiling now. "Hope she bought this thing."

As expected, the stand-alone computer no longer worked. "I'd like to tell Huw something, give him the story. We'd have known nothing without his tip." Ianto was looking at Jack expectantly.

"Sure. Let's cobble something together. Over some coffee," the older man hinted. "Gwen, it's quiet, why don't you take off?"

"Thanks. There's a new film we've been wanting to see for ages. Could do that tonight." She packed up and was walking out of the door by the time Ianto returned to the work area with the coffees.

"Your coffee," said Ianto as he handed over the blue and white striped mug.

"Your tracker," replied Jack, holding up the one Ianto had sewn into the older man's greatcoat.

"Thank you." Ianto took the device and put it on his desk. He sipped the coffee and avoided Jack's gaze.

"I know why you did it, Ianto, but you're wrong. I'm not going anywhere."

Ianto looked at Jack and they gazed into one another's eyes for a minute or two. "I didn't want to lose you too," Ianto said eventually.

"No chance of that," replied Jack, smiling. "Now, let's come up with a cover story. Then we can do something more interesting."

* * *

_I'd welcome your views on the story._


	17. Tag Team

_Jack leads a team building exercise ..._

* * *

**Tag Team**

"Okay, boys and girls, time to play." Jack grinned at the other members of Torchwood Three gathered round the Boardroom table.

"This is bloody stupid," complained Owen from his place slumped in a chair at the end of the table.

"I really should be getting on with the analysis of the Tremkal artefact," said Toshiko tentatively.

"That can wait. This is important." Jack was still grinning but it was more of a fixed grin than before. "We were sloppy yesterday, the Weevil almost got away. We have got to do better."

"Do I have to stay?" queried Ianto. "I was on leave yesterday so it's - "

"If I've got to be here, so have you, tea-boy!" said Owen.

"You're part of the team, Ianto." Gwen smiled across at him. She was the only one who supported Jack in this, had helped him find a suitable exercise and gathered together the materials they would need. "We all have to take part."

"Shall I make some coffee before we start?" Ianto asked. He got to his feet, thinking he could spin out making the coffee until after the others had started.

"No. Sit down, Ianto." Jack softened his words with a smile but Ianto recognised he was not going to get out of the exercise. He sat down.

"Right, Jack, off you go." Gwen smiled at him brightly, marshalling the marker pens into a neat line and fingering the large pieces of paper on the table in front of her.

"Okay. The objective of the game is to design the perfect Torchwood team member using our own best points."

"Individual strengths and positive traits," interjected Gwen, having learnt the correct terminology.

"Thank you, Gwen." Her support was good to have, thought Jack, but sometimes overwhelming. "It's all those things about us that contribute to our success as a team. We're going to write them all down and see what we come up with. Everyone understand?"

"Yes, teacher," said Owen sarkily. The others said nothing though Ianto and Toshiko nodded.

"Then let's start. I think it would be best if we all highlight one another's best points. We'll go round the table. Gwen, will you write them down please?"

"Why her?"

It was Owen again. Jack was getting a little tired of the man's voice but this was a team building exercise so he decided not to bawl him out. "Because no one would be able to read your writing."

"I could set up a program, display them on the screen," offered Toshiko. She was dragging a keyboard towards her and opening up a window.

"Not yet, Tosh, thanks." Jack put a hand on her arm and smiled at her. "When we've refined the profile. Okay?" She reluctantly put the keyboard to one side. "Right, first thing to go down, technical brilliance." His smile broadened into a grin as he looked at Toshiko.

Toshiko, sitting beside Jack, blushed prettily, then realised she had to go next. "Scientific and medical analysis," was her contribution.

Gwen scribbled this down and looked over at Ianto, next to contribute a suggestion.

"Leadership," he said.

"Coffee making," came from Owen. There were various noises of derision. "What?" demanded Owen. "Any of you be able to get through a day without some of tea-boy's coffee? Come to think of it, maybe that's why it went wrong yesterday."

"What went wrong yesterday was you going right not left and leaving a gap for the Weevil to get through!" retorted Gwen. She realised that no one had come up with any of her strengths, unless leadership covered her as well as Jack. Surely she brought something to the team?

"Well if you'd remembered the hoods and manacles it wouldn't have got loose when we got it down the first time," he shot back.

"Enough!" said Jack, both hands raised for silence. "We went over that at the morning briefing. Gwen, your suggestion please."

She was glaring at Owen while playing with the red marker pen in her hand. Unbeknown to her, she had not put the cap on properly and the ink was getting on her fingers. "Research of all known data sources," she said. When she went to write this down she saw what had happened and dropped the pen. "Damn," she swore, reaching for a tissue.

Owen sniggered. "Teacher's pet has got ink all over her," he said in a sing-song tone.

"Shut up, Owen." This came from Jack. "All right there, Gwen?"

"Yes, thanks." She picked up a different pen, Ianto having snagged the red one and put it where it would not leave marks on the table.

"We'll go round the table again. My next one is marksmanship. Our ideal team member has to be a good shot."

The others added their suggestions: knowledge of alien cultures from Toshiko; determination or staying power from Ianto; strong stomach from Owen; and preparation for any eventuality from Gwen

Pleased to got have that much from them, Jack decided to lead the discussion more directly. "All of these are excellent suggestions. Now let's think of physical attributes that this ultimate team member would need. Any suggestions?"

"Look good enough to shag," volunteered Owen. More disgusted looks were thrown his way but no one commented.

"Physically fit," suggested Toshiko. "We all have to be able to run around a lot and lift Weevils and other aliens."

"Intelligent," came from Ianto, "given the things we have to get our heads round."

"But not too much that way," countered Gwen. "Common sense is just as important."

"Those last two aren't physical," complained Owen.

"But nonetheless important," soothed Jack before an argument could break out. "I think we've got enough now to go on to the next stage of the exercise. We can add more attributes as we think of them." He looked around and thought they looked a little more interested. "This is the fun part, we get to draw our ultimate team member. Who's up for that? How about you, Ianto?"

"Me?" The Welshman had been planning a rearrangement of part of the archives. He usually did this in meetings, used half his brain to keep track of the discussion and the rest to do something more productive. "Why me?"

"You've got an art A-level and I've seen the quality of your work."

Ianto stared at Jack. A few weeks ago, Ianto had been waiting for Jack to finish a phone call and had drawn the older man sitting at his desk. He had shown the resulting sketch to Jack but had believed it to be a private moment between them not to be communicated to the rest of the team. He grabbed some paper and a pencil and sat glowering at Jack.

Not understanding the exchange and wanting to move the exercise along, Gwen spoke. "I think our person would be at least five foot six."

"Be better if he was five eight or maybe five ten," contributed Owen. "Need a good chest cavity too for added lung capacity for all the running. And strong leg muscles." He was more interested now, putting his medical knowledge to good use.

"Who said is was a 'he'?" queried Toshiko. "Could be a woman."

"Absolutely," agreed Gwen and Jack.

"Well which do you want?" demanded Ianto, pencil poised above the paper. He had drawn the rough outline of a figure that could be either male or female.

"Keep it ambiguous for now," suggested Jack, still trying to keep the peace. "Gwen read out the things we've noted down so Ianto can add them to the drawing."

For the next ten minutes or so, Gwen read out the list, Ianto drew and the others passed comment, helpful and otherwise. Ianto blocked most of the chatter out and concentrated on the drawing. He was making it a caricature to incorporate all the mad things his team mates were throwing at him. When he had finished, he used Blu-tack to secure the drawing against the plasma screen.

The others looked it over. The head was exaggerated and part of the brain was visible to show intelligence. The face was beautiful but neither male nor female and showed a steely determination. The chest was large showing increased lung capacity with the merest possibility of tiny breasts under a loose shirt. In one hand the figure held a gun and in the other a cup of coffee. The hips were slim and the legs long and encased in trousers and boots with huge leg muscles for all the running. The finishing touches were a lab coat for scientific and medical knowledge, a PDA peeping out of a pocket for technical expertise and a file under one arm for the record keeping that was needed – something no one had mentioned but which Ianto had decided was vital.

"Wow. He's hot," said Jack.

"It's not a man, that's a woman," argued Gwen, "but she is hot."

"That's very good, Ianto," smiled Toshiko as the Welshman sat down.

"I forgot something. We need to give him – or her – a name. Suggestions?" asked Jack.

"Petula," contributed Owen, still looking at the drawing. He noticed the silence and turned to look round at his colleagues. "You wanted suggestions," he shrugged.

"It should be something unisex. How about Sam?" This came from Toshiko and the others slowly nodded their agreement: Sam it was.

"Shall I do the next bit?" Gwen asked brightly. When Jack did not object, she went on, "How would this person, this Sam, help us? What could Sam do to help the team? Would Sam make your job easier?"

"Be nice to have someone else to make the coffee once in a while and who knew how to file alphabetically," said Ianto. "I'd employ her. Or him."

Toshiko looked thoughtful. "Having someone who understood what I was talking about would help," she said wistfully.

"Thanks, Tosh," said Jack, mock offended.

"I meant as well as you, Jack," added Toshiko immediately.

Owen spoke up. "I agree with Tosh. Most of you have no fucking idea what I'm talking about half the time"

He ignored Ianto's muttered, "Do you?"

"I'd welcome someone to bounce ideas off," Owen continued.

"I'd not get much work done if Sam was around, be too busy flirting," grinned Jack. "Although," he went on over the chorus of jeers, "it would be nice to have someone who didn't argue with me all the time."

"How do you make that one out?" asked Gwen.

"No mouth." It was true, when they looked at the drawing again Sam did not have a mouth.

"Just look at that determination," said Gwen. "Sam would be great at seeing a job through no matter how shitty it turned out."

"So we're all agreed that Sam would be an asset to Torchwood," said Jack, looking round the table. He saw the others nod or otherwise indicate agreement. "But Sam is only the best of all of us. We are Sam. If we all work together, recognise the strengths that everyone brings to the team, then we'll work better together. You are incredibly talented people, I wouldn't have recruited you otherwise, and if you'll take the time to listen to me and to one another, to take into account the particular skills your team mates bring to the table, then we are unbeatable." He paused and studied them each in turn. Even the ever sceptical Owen looked thoughtful. "That's it, end of exercise. I've found it useful, I hope you have too. Now, back to work." He stood up and walked out, the others rising to follow him.

Later that evening, when Jack returned from a quick trip into the city he found a large drawing on his office wall. It was headed 'Jack, the worst Torchwood team member'. The drawing showed someone looking very like him in flowing greatcoat and braces with hands on hips standing on a roof. Listed on both sides of the drawing were the attributes: flirt; reckless with his own life; ruthless; disappears for months without a word; shags everything with a pulse; never listens to reason; unable to blend in to the background; and, makes it up as he goes along.

"Well?" asked a quiet voice from the doorway.

Jack turned to see Ianto leaning on the doorframe. To hide his hurt, Jack said, "You've caught my likeness."

Ianto moved over to the drawing and let down the bottom couple of inches which had been folded over to reveal: 'Our leader. We couldn't ask for a better'. "We all agreed that bit. Guess you're greater than the sum of your parts."

Suddenly Jack found it hard to speak. All the attributes listed were undoubtedly him but if they still considered him a good leader then he was satisfied, more than satisfied. This was a hell of a team and one he wanted to keep around him for a long time to come. "Let's go eat," he said finally.

* * *

_Please let me know what you think of this latest chapter. _


	18. A Matter of Perspective

_Owen goes to the pub at the end of a tough day. Set after End of Days when Jack has been missing about a week. WARNING: As this is Owen the story contains swearing and sexual references, not overly graphic._

* * *

**A Matter of Perspective**

The pub was busy with office workers who were having a drink before heading home to the wife and kids or, if they were single, going on for a meal and then to a club. In another hour, the older couples and the sad singles with no friends would find their way into the pub, replacing those who had moved on. These latecomers would stay until their beds called them or they got lucky.

Into this mixture walked Owen Harper. Like none of the other categories of clientele, he was here for one reason only, to drown his sorrows. He stood out from the crowd by his London accent and scowling face and the bartender, Rick, who was also the manager, made a note to watch him; he could cause trouble if he was rubbed up the wrong way. Rick also noticed the bandaged hand and bruised cheek and put him down as a brawler.

"What can I get you?" asked Rick.

"Vodka."

"Anything with that?" Rick was reaching for the tumbler but still looking at the man.

"Nope."

Owen paid for the drink and stood at the bar, sipping it until a bloke buying a round for his mates jogged his arm and some of the vodka spilled out onto Owen's jacket.

"Sorry, mate," said the bloke immediately. "Another one for this guy too," he told Rick who was totting up the drinks for the man's tab.

"Cheers," replied Owen, acknowledging the bloke's generosity.

When the second vodka was put in front of him, Owen downed the remnants of the first and looked round for somewhere safer to drink. The place was heaving but there was a lone guy sitting at a corner table. He made in that direction, protecting his drink from the constantly moving people standing between him and the table. Relieved at having got there without spilling any, Owen looked down on a youngish man who was nursing a pint and silently watching his fellow patrons.

"This seat free?" asked Owen, nodding towards the chair in front of him.

"Yeah." The guy smiled up at him, his face open and friendly.

Owen pulled out the chair and sat, hunched over his glass. The two men said nothing for several minutes, each sipping their drinks and lost in their own thoughts. Owen's were turned inward, going over and over the events of the day and getting more resentful and self pitying as time passed. His table companion avoided looking at him, continuing to scan the crowd, not looking for anyone in particular but enjoying the lively scene. He never let his gaze rest long on any one group or person for long, that could cause offence, but let his eyes drift over them all vicariously sharing their jollity.

Growing warm, Owen pulled off his leather jacket and hung it on the back of his chair, making sure he had nothing in the pockets any passing pickpocket would find tempting. His hand was now more exposed and the white bandage stood out. He felt his companion looking at it and for the first time took a really good look at him. "Got a problem?" he demanded.

"No."

"Good." Owen took another sip of his drink. He assessed the other man using his peripheral vision. In his mid to late twenties, blond, well developed chest and upper body, tattoo on his right forearm – a dagger – visible as he was wearing a short sleeved shirt over a T-shirt. Scar over his left eyebrow. Looked fit, like he worked out, but not for offence, the face was too trusting and friendly to be that of someone who regularly picked fights.

"Bad day?" queried the man. His tone was neutral. It made no odds to him if the man answered or not, he was just making conversation. If he didn't answer, he would not push it.

"You have no idea." The two men sat in silence for several minutes, sipping their drinks. Owen finished his and looked towards the bar. There was a lull in the people demanding refreshments, he'd have one more. Rising he glanced down at the other man's glass; almost empty. "Want another?"

"Yeah, thanks. Half of John Brown, please." His smile was genuine and warm.

Owen moved to the bar and bought the drinks, admiring the barmaid's ample breasts and low top. But she was busy and after giving him his change, moved on to the next customer with nary a glance at him. Back at the table, Owen put the drinks down and sat once more.

"Cheers," said his companion.

"Cheers." They clinked glasses and each took a sip. Owen's eye was drawn to a crowd of young women, seven or eight of them, who came into the pub at that moment. They were wearing nothing much at all, bare midriffs and shapely thighs on display for all to see. Faces weren't much, in his opinion, but you didn't need to look that high too often. They chattered and giggled at the bar as they gave their order to Rick.

"Looks like they're on the pull," said the man sitting next to Owen.

"Probably get lucky too." Owen turned his gaze away from the girls and looked at the man. "Want to try for one?"

The man laughed. "No, I just want a quiet drink. Besides, they'll be moving on to a club and dancing before long, that's not my scene. But don't let me stop you."

"I am not in the mood."

"Ah, this bad day you've been having."

"Yep. Started out bad enough, called into work at six this morning, then just went from bad to worse."

"That's an early start."

Owen half laughed. "Pull all nighters half the week too, since the boss buggered off and left us. Now we have to cover his work as well as do as our own."

"Doesn't seem fair. Gone on holiday has he?"

"No fucking idea. One minute he was there, next he was gone. Been a week now and we still don't know where the fuck he is." Owen sipped the vodka. "Then today Gwen decides she's going take his place and starts ordering us about. Newest bloody recruit and she thinks she should be in charge!"

"That's not right."

"Too fucking true it's not! Because of her I got this." He held up his bandaged hand. "Too busy leading to keep a proper watch and left me hung out to dry."

"Cut, is it? Or a burn?" asked the man. He had decided it must be one of those as there was no sign of a rigid cast or plaster for a break.

Owen hesitated, on the point of admitting to it being a Weevil bite. "Cut," he said finally. "Nasty too. Had to go to the hospital to get it bandaged up right too, the rest of them are useless."

They lapsed into silence, downing more of their drinks. Owen watched the crowd of girls who had found a table in the centre of the room where they were making a load of noise, their high pitched voices grating on him. Beyond them, at a table by herself, was an older woman with long dark hair and bright red lipstick. For a moment he was shaken, reminded of Diane Holmes, but then the woman moved and the illusion was broken. He took another pull on his vodka.

"You ought to be careful, drinking, if you're on painkillers and antibiotics." The man was looking at him, concern obvious in his expression.

"I know what I'm doing, I'm a bleeding doctor," snapped Owen.

"Then you'll know better than me." The man held up both hands in a gesture of surrender, defusing the angry moment. "Sorry."

"Nah, you're right. This'll be my last." He looked across the room at the woman and saw she had been joined by a man. They had their heads close together and were laughing, lovers or maybe husband and wife. Regret swept over him for what might have been with Diane followed swiftly by shame at what he done to try and get her back again. Opening the Rift had been so stupid.

"Here's my ride home," announced the other man, drawing Owen's attention back to his companion. He was looking at a man walking towards them. "Clive, right on time as always."

"I know how you like military precision," smiled Clive, standing beside the table. He looked at Owen and smiled too.

Downing the remainder of his drink, the man at the table set down the glass and looked at Owen. "Nice talking to you. Hope things get better for you."

"Thanks."

Owen watched as Clive bent and retrieved something from under the chair against the wall. He stood up with a pair of crutches in his hand and held them out to the seated man who put them under his armpits and, with a little help, levered himself upright. Taking his time, he made for the door on his one good leg with Clive going in front to make a clear passage. Owen watched with his mouth open, he had had no idea the man was an amputee.

"Good bloke that," said Rick clearing tables nearby.

"What happened to him?"

"Blown up in Afghanistan. Damned shame, Tony was a great tennis player. Was at Wimbledon as a junior before he joined up. Can't get a job now, no one wants someone who reminds them of war." Rick took the empty glasses from Owen's table and moved on.

Owen sat for a little longer, his own troubles at work put into perspective. When he'd finished his drink, he shrugged into his jacket. Going to the bar he waited until Rick was free. "Stick this behind the bar for Tony," he said, handing over fifty pounds. He walked off before Rick could recover from the surprise.

The streets of Cardiff were still busy. People were around at all hours of the day and night in the city, everyone living here was buying into the PR blurb that sold Cardiff as a metropolis with a good night life. Owen walked with his head down, hands in his pockets. He sidestepped groups of people milling outside clubs as bouncers decided who to let in and who to bar. The pretty girls were getting in first, the fit blokes next and the saddos were left to wait and hope. Owen had been to most of the clubs in his four years in the city and a fair few in the surrounding towns. They were okay but of late his taste for them had diminished and he wondered if he was growing up at last, his days of going on the pull and dancing were beginning to pall.

The thought of dancing brought his mind back to Tony. Only one leg and no job, yet there was no self-pity in him. He'd said dancing wasn't for him without a regret for the time when he could have joined the birds on the dance floor. _God,_ Owen thought, _I am such a prick. Moaned about my rough day and his whole life is ruined._ Owen turned down into a marginally quieter street, glad he had not brought his car and even happier it wasn't raining. Halfway down he saw another gaggle of people outside a well lit doorway – a new club that he hadn't tried yet. He considered stopping but the people going in looked like school kids and he decided against it. He walked on. Passing an opening into an ill-lit and dirty alleyway, he was almost bowled over by a man running out.

"Watch it, mate!" shouted Owen after the man's retreating back.

"Bastard."

Owen turned and looked into the alley. The female voice had come from a young woman tottering towards him on high heels. She was in the uniform – crop top, bare midriff, short skirt and bare legs – and was holding onto the side of her face. She passed under a light on the wall and he saw she was bleeding.

"Bastard didn't even pay me," she complained, coming closer to where Owen stood watching her.

"Let me look at that," said Owen motioning towards her head. "I'm a doctor."

"Don't look like one."

"What do you bleeding expect, a white coat?" He moved to stand in front of her, turning her head to face the light. "That's a deep cut, could do with stitches."

"Don't want to go to no hospital," she complained.

He remembered he had an emergency first aid kit in his pocket, one he carried with him all the time. "Come over here and I'll clean it up a bit. Maybe you won't have to."

He moved to stand by a rubbish bin under the light and, reluctantly, she followed him and perched on it. Taking out the kit, he gave it to her to hold and looked again at the wound. She may get by without stitches if he bound it up tight enough. Working quickly he cleansed the nasty gash and applied antiseptic ignoring the woman's gasp as it stung. He pulled the edges of the skin together and applied a dressing, securing it with tape.

"That should do you for tonight. Go and see your doctor in the morning and get the dressing changed. You'll have a black eye."

"Shit! How am I going to work with a black eye?"

"Shouldn't think the punks that use you would mind much," he said callously. He took the kit from her and put it in his pocket.

"You self-righteous bastard!" she said. "Who the bleeding hell are you to say that about me?"

"The bloke who just patched you up after your latest trick got picky." Owen did not like prostitutes, had never had time for them, had never used them, never had to pay for it. In his opinion they should get a job and earn money legally same as everyone else and not pass on diseases to every guy fool enough to get into their knickers.

The woman slapped him across the face, hard, and jumped down from the rubbish bin. "For your information, mister high and mighty, I do this to put food on the table."

"Yeah, right," said Owen, rubbing his cheek. "And I'm Father Christmas."

"Well, bloody Santa Claus, you tell me how to feed my kid otherwise. I've already got two other jobs, proper jobs," she stressed. "But cleaning and being a travel agent only brings enough to pay the rent and gas and electric. Clothes come from the charity shop and the only way we eat is if I do this a couple of nights a week. Or would you rather I let Jimmy starve?" She stormed off then turned and came back to him, poking a finger into his chest. "And if my bloody husband hadn't swanned off with that tart from Swansea I wouldn't be in this mess. Bloody men!" She turned and strode off as fast as her high heels would allow.

Owen looked after her, dazed. He'd made a judgement based on no evidence at all and been wrong. What did he know about her life? What did he know about anyone else's life to go all judgemental? He ran after her, catching up with her just before she rounded the corner.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, falling into place alongside her.

"So you should be." She kept walking.

"If you want someone to look at your head - "

"You saying I'm bonkers?" she accused. She had stopped and had her hands on her hips, staring at him.

"No, no, I meant your bloody cut. Jeez, you always so touchy?"

"Only when some strange bloke stalks me." She started walking again.

"I meant," he began, stressing the second word, "that if you want the dressing changed you can come and find me. The Tourist Office at Mermaid Quay, where the cruise boats are." He was walking along with her again. "My name's Owen, just ask for me."

She said nothing, walking until she reached the bus stop where she finally stopped and looked at him. Under the street light, she noticed his helpful expression and softened just a little; the man had helped her when he didn't have to. But all her experience of men had been bad, from her dad disappearing when she was four to her husband buggering off leaving her to bring up Jimmy on her own.

"What do you want, mister?" she demanded. "Looking to dip your wick, are you?"

"No! God, no!" He shook his head and shoved his hands in his pocket. He stood waiting for her to move but she didn't and only then did he notice this was a bus stop. She was waiting for a bus to get home. In the distance he saw a taxi approaching and before he could think about it, he was at the side of the road flagging it down. "Take a taxi home. You ought to rest. Here," he thrust a twenty pound note at her, "this'll pay the fare."

She looked at him, then at the taxi which had drawn up at the kerb and hesitated for just a moment before taking the money. "Thanks," she said, getting in to the vehicle.

"Where to, love?" asked the driver.

"Silver Way, Splott," she said loud enough for Owen to hear.

As Owen shut the door on her, he chucked another couple of notes in her lap before banging the roof of the taxi. It took off, its passenger peering out of the back window wondering who the man was who gave her taxi fare and sixty pounds all for nothing.

Alone again, Owen trudged on his way. He was making for home in Panama Quay, to the east of the Bay and his feet found their way automatically. His mind was thinking back over the second encounter of the night that make him rethink his priorities. That woman, not much more than a girl, had responsibilities he had not even dreamed off. What must it be like to be left to raise a child alone? What lengths would one go to to provide for it? Would he be prepared to hold down two jobs and go on the game to make ends meet? Probably not, he admitted, grateful for the first time that he had a good, well paid job that he enjoyed. Even shitty days like today were better than that woman's best ones. He realised he was close to the Hub and paused. The walk in the chilly night air had left him feeling stone cold sober and he wasn't tired. There were some tests he could set up ready for the morning, would only take half an hour. He walked into Roald Dahl Plass.

Entering the Hub on the lift, he was surprised to see Ianto still at work. The man was on his hands and knees in the work area, scrubbing the floor. When the stone swung into place on the Plass above his head, Owen, still some tens of feet in the air, saw Ianto swing round fast at the noise and rush to the lower level. His face was staring up and Owen saw the hope for just a second before the impassive mask replaced it. _Poor bugger still thinks Jack is coming back_, thought Owen.

"Owen, what are you doing back?" Ianto was standing with his hands on his hips, shirt sleeves rolled up and tie off.

"What are you still doing here?" Owen countered, stepping off the lift.

"Just clearing up." The Welshman turned and walked back to the work area, climbing the steps slowly. He knelt back to his work and Owen guiltily realised that he was removing the spill of blue paint that he, Owen, had made when he had been larking about.

"You should go home, get some rest."

Owen threw his jacket on the sofa and skirted Ianto to reach the medical bay, his domain. As he set up the tests, he thought about the Welshman and wondered if he ever went home. He was in first every morning and worked late. Owen realised that even when he had worked overnight, he'd not seen Ianto leave. The other man had always been ghosting around the place or buried in his archives. Was this something else he had missed? Had Ianto been working all hours, staying here just in case Jack came back? It wouldn't surprise him. Ianto had been shagging their boss pretty regularly before he disappeared and was the sort to get in too deep with someone flighty like Jack. The doctor swore, yet another reason to hate Jack for just upping and leaving them like this. With the tests underway, Owen went back to the work area but there was no sign of Ianto.

"Ianto, you here?" he shouted. No reply. Owen reasoned he must still be in the Hub as he had not heard the door alarms. Going to his desk, he brought up the internal sensors and found Ianto in the archives. With a muttered curse, he took off after him. "What you doing down here, tea-boy?" he asked when he found Ianto at the small desk.

"Filing. Thought I'd get up to date." Ianto did not look up, keeping his gaze on the folders on the desk.

"If you keep this up, you'll be dead of exhaustion before Jack gets back."

Slowly, Ianto's head turned and his gaze met Owen's. The doctor had never spoken so gently to him before, even after the Brecon Beacons he had been harsh and sarky.

"Ianto, mate, you know Jack's a law unto himself. He'll come back when he's good and ready and you working all hours won't bring him back any the sooner." Owen was trying to establish contact with the other man, trying to make him see sense. "Go home and get some sleep."

"Why are you being nice to me?" A sarky Owen was manageable, Ianto was used to that. An Owen who spoke softly and was not rude unsettled him.

"Because I've been so busy thinking I was hard done by, I've been too blind to see that others have it much worse than me." He was thinking of Tony, the one-legged soldier, and of the nameless woman, trying to earn some money to feed her child. "Jack pulling a disappearing act pissed me off so much I didn't think what it would do to you. You must miss him."

"Yes, I do." Ianto missed Jack every minute of every hour of every day. It was as if a part of him had been taken. He was incomplete and would be until Jack came back.

"And all the rest of us have been doing, well, me and Gwen, is argue about who's going to take over." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. You getting any sleep?"

Ianto found he couldn't speak so just shook his head.

"Come on then, I'll get you some sleeping pills. They'll help." He turned and waited until Ianto stood and then walked back up to the medical bay. Ianto followed him.

With the pills in hand, Ianto stood irresolute. He didn't want to go home to the flat where he and Jack had shared those few nights when they had managed to get away from the Hub. There were too many memories for him to be able to sleep there. "I don't want to go home," he admitted finally.

"Then come back to my place, you can use the spare room." Owen put on his jacket and passed Ianto's to him. "That's as long as you don't snore. Can't abide snoring. And no sleep walking, that's plain creepy." The two men were walking to the cog door. "Don't want sticky substances on the sheets either, not unless you're going to wash them. And if I hear any comments on my housekeeping, you'll be finding another bed for the night."

The cog door closed behind them as Owen continued to lay down the house rules.

* * *

_A slightly different view of Owen which I hope you liked. _


	19. Open Door

_Ianto and Owen argue and Jack misses an opportunity …_

* * *

**Open Door**

Jack was contently working his way through the paperwork stacked on his desk. Since the arrival of Ianto Jones this chore, an unwelcome consequence of being head of Torchwood Three, had become - almost - a pleasure. The Welshman had taken over a lot of the regular updates and reports that needed to be sent to UNIT, the Prime Minister and the Queen and these now appeared on time and in the correct format for Jack to read and sign. It was a joy to behold. If he could get the rest of the team to adopt the same discipline Jack would be a happy man. Their notes and reports were never timely or complete: Suzie because she took on too much work, Toshiko because she always thought there was more she would discover with 'just a little more time' and Owen because he plain didn't see the point of paperwork. No amount of chivvying from Jack had changed any of them.

Jack's attention was drawn from these thoughts and the paperwork by raised voices outside his office.

"It's bloody stupid," said Owen, "I've got to get down here somehow!" He was at his desk, his leather jacket hung over the back of his chair as he shrugged into his lab coat.

"We are supposed to be a secret organisation," responded Ianto, standing behind Toshiko, hands on hips.

"Why were they there? Stupid place for them to be."

"They're tourists. What else do you expect to find in a Tourist Office!?" demanded Ianto. He was now standing behind Owen who was sitting with his back deliberately turned to the Welshman. "You're the one who's stupid."

"Oy, watch your bloody mouth!" Owen swung round in his chair and glared at Ianto.

"You're a fine one to talk! You're the one who can't complete a sentence without swearing!"

"You," Owen replied, standing up and pointing a finger menacingly, "are the newbie here and you'd better remember your place, tea-boy!"

"Enough!" bellowed Jack from his office door. "In here both of you. Now."

When they were standing side by side in front of him like naughty schoolboys, Jack looked pointedly from one to other. The two men rubbed each other up the wrong way, had done ever since Ianto had arrived a couple of months earlier. They were different personalities, certainly, but Jack could not understand why there was such animosity between them. They were much of an age, Owen the elder by just eighteen months, and should have had something in common to bring them together. "Ianto, what's going on?"

"Oh that's right, ask him first!" exclaimed Owen.

"You'll get your turn. Ianto?"

The young Welshman, took a deep breath and calmed himself. Then he looked at Jack, meeting his eyes, eyes that seemed to look through him to his very soul unless he had his guard up. He needed to guard his thoughts and feelings more and more every day. Lisa was downstairs but the equipment they had fashioned to support her was not reviving her. She remained half converted and Ianto was getting increasingly worried. He had expected Lisa to be human by now and the strain of keeping her a secret was becoming intolerable. It would be so easy to let down his guard and admit what he had done to Jack, to seek his help. His time here had given him a lot of respect for the older man's abilities. He suddenly realised that Jack was still waiting for him to reply.

"I was manning the Tourist Office dealing with a young couple from Sweden," began Ianto, "when Owen walked in and opened the secret door in front of them. It's not the first time he's done it."

"What do you expect me to do?" demanded Owen, arms folded across his chest belligerently. "Hang about and wait until they go?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I expect," replied Ianto, glaring at the shorter man. "It's in the standing orders which you must have read and signed when you joined this organisation."

"Order, smorders. Who cares about them?"

"I do." Jack's voice was quiet yet brought the others out of the tit for tat accusations. "Did you open the door as Ianto says?"

"Not straight away," Owen began, trying to justify himself. "I waited a good ten minutes - "

"Barely three," interjected Ianto.

"It was ten! Look, Jack, those people were going to be there all day. I can't be hanging around waiting."

"Did you open the door when the Tourist Office was occupied? Yes or no," asked Jack in his calm voice.

"All right, yes, I did." Owen finally admitted it.

"Then you're cleaning the cells for the next three days. I expect them to be spick and span. I shall be checking."

"Aw, Jack, I've got bodies stacked up for autopsies. How am I supposed to get them done and clean the cells?" Owen was as close to whining as he could get.

"You'll have to work late. And this whole problem could have been avoided if you arrived at a reasonable time in the morning, same as the rest of us, before the Tourist Office is open. Now, you'd better get cracking if you're going to be out of here before midnight." With a disgusted look at Ianto, Owen turned on his heel and left the office, stomping off to the medical bay muttering all the way.

"Thank you, sir." Ianto was smiling slightly, pleased to see the arrogant doctor taken down a peg or two.

Jack watched him and wondered if this young man was as open and innocent as he appeared. That smile looked very much like self-satisfaction at having bested Owen, akin to outright gloating by anyone else. Did he have a hidden agenda in making an issue of this? After watching him, Jack had concluded that Ianto was a very private person, made more so by the experiences of Canary Wharf, and had not pushed too hard to get him to open up. The man did his job incredibly well, in fact Jack wondered how they had managed before he'd arrived. But he had stalked Jack in order to get the job, followed him around for days until capturing the Pteranodon had finally made Jack relent. Why had the Welshman wanted to work here so much? Surely it would have been more logical for Ianto to want nothing more to do with Torchwood, it had caused the death of his girlfriend.

"Did you want me for anything else?" asked Ianto, looking at his boss curiously. The man had been quiet for several minutes, just looking at him with that gaze that made Ianto realise he was so much more astute than he appeared. Ianto had to be careful round him or Lisa would be discovered. And yet … why not tell him? Why not just tell him here and now? It would ease the burden of secrecy and he would feel so much better. The relief of owning up was so appealing that Ianto opened his mouth to speak.

"What happened to the tourists?" Jack asked.

The change of subject jolted Ianto out of his confession. He decided to wait a bit longer, Lisa wasn't going anywhere. "Tourists? Oh, the Swedes. I managed to explain it satisfactorily, I think. Said it was a concealed door to a storeroom where Owen worked." He smiled, liking the idea of the cocky doctor as a store man. "They seemed to accept it."

"Good." Jack paused, wondering whether to push just a bit more. Had the boy been about to say something? "You got everything you need for the Tourist Office?"

"Yes, thank you, sir."

Jack nodded, pleased with the way Ianto had spruced the place up and made it a better cover for the base. "Look, is Owen giving you a hard time?"

"I can handle him, sir."

"I know he can be intimidating but he is vital to the team. However, if he gets too far out of line, I can rein him in. Just tell me."

"Of course, sir, but I'm sure it won't come to that." Ianto made a mental note to stay out of the doctor's way for the next few days. In the small silence that developed, Ianto again thought about sharing his secret with Jack, wanting to clear his conscience once and for all. Jack would not like being used but that was better than him finding out some other way. "Sir, if you have a moment I wonder if - "

The Rift alarm sounded and Jack was out of the office, running to Toshiko's side. Within five minutes he, Toshiko and Suzie had left in a rush. Ianto made his way up the stairs to the Tourist Office, preferring to be there than in the main Hub with the doctor. He thought he might try to speak to Jack again, when the moment was right.

Unfortunately, that moment never arrived and the first Jack knew of the Cyberman in his basement was when she tried to kill his team.

* * *

_Many thanks for the reviews so far, they are much appreciated. _


	20. The Legacy of Suzie Costello

_The team's thoughts after the second death of Suzie Costello._

* * *

**The Legacy of Suzie Costello**

The Hub was strangely quiet. It was not the same quiet as when there was nobody around, nor the quiet of people busily engaged in the myriad of tasks that went on in that vast underground space. It was an uneasy quiet. The four human inhabitants were troubled in various different ways and did not want to be distracted from their own thoughts by chatter and laughter.

Deepest in thought was Gwen Cooper, not surprising as she had been the one who had almost died. She was at her desk ostensibly researching a series of strange sightings but really going over and over the events of the previous day when she had been one end of the alien link in which her life force had been slowly drained from her by Suzie Costello. The links between the two women were many. First Gwen had stepped into the woman's job, then she had taken up with Owen where it appeared Suzie had left off and, to put the icing on the cake, the two women had been linked by the Resurrection Glove and almost changed places for good, going from life to death and death to life. Gwen felt elated at being alive, at her reprieve from the darkness she had glimpsed, but more rational thought had made her realise that the events, while set up by Suzie months before, had been the result of her, Gwen's, actions. She was the one who had suggested using the Resurrection Glove, had persuaded Jack and Owen against their better instincts to go along with it and had persisted in using it. It all may have started with the best of intentions in order to prevent more deaths but her naïve belief in the basic goodness of other people had once again led her astray in the world in which Torchwood operated. And later, it was Gwen's desire to help Suzie, to make up in some way for taking her place on the Torchwood team, that overriding wish to be helpful, that had led her to take the woman out of the base and almost caused her own death. It had caused the death of Suzie's father. A night of soul searching had brought Gwen face to face with the unpalatable truth; she had to curb her enthusiasm and her blind trust in other people. The reflections of the night, lying in the safety of Rhys' arms, had also brought home the futility of her affair with Owen. She did not love the doctor, she loved Rhys, and her actions were hurting him. She was resolved to end the affair but had yet to decide how to tell Owen.

In the archives, Ianto Jones was hidden away. He had been the least involved in the events with Suzie and yet his life had been changed completely as a result of them. He worked on auto-pilot, cataloguing papers and artefacts, as his mind roved back to the night before and the morgue. If they had not gone through the uncertainties of that night when Jack and Owen had chased Gwen to Hedley Quay, he would never have taken that final step there among the dead. He had long wanted to approach Jack. In the weeks after Lisa and at the time of the Brecon Beacons debacle, they had become friends and the spark that been lying dormant between them since they had met needed only a little encouragement to spring into life. Well, it was burning brightly now after Ianto had fanned the flame. Seducing his boss over a dead body was not the romantic setting he had dreamt of but after the trials of the day the offer had been made and accepted. Stopping work, Ianto stared ahead as he remembered the night before and smiled. Any awkwardness he had felt at first had soon disappeared and he believed Jack had enjoyed himself too. Now, however, they had to face the world. Ianto was on edge, not knowing how his exuberant boss would treat him. He did not want the rest of the team to know of their night together but he feared Jack would have other ideas.

In the Medical Bay, Owen Harper was uneasy about his part in the whole 'Suzie thing', as he thought of it. Using the Resurrection Glove - or Risen Mitten – had been a bad idea from the start but he had let Gwen persuade him. Using it on Mark Briscoe and Alex Arwyn was bad enough but letting himself be talked into raising Suzie was madness of the highest order. He should have stood up to Jack and Gwen as they got carried away but he hadn't, he had caved in and gone along with them like a fool. Even when it had got that far he had not monitored the Glove properly, had not seen the threat to Gwen until it was far, far too late. He had also acted badly at the ferry terminal. There was no earthly reason for him to have stayed with Gwen when there was nothing he could do for her. The threat from Suzie had been real and he should have helped Jack deal with her but instead he had held Gwen and been useless to both her and Jack. Owen recognised that his mind had been on Gwen when he should have been looking at the wider picture, focussing on the danger. The whole fiasco had made him doubt himself, medically and personally. Bonking Gwen was satisfying, he had no complaints in that department, but it had started as no more than scratching an itch. Now he suspected the relationship meant something to her, that she might be getting ready to leave her boyfriend. And that was bad because as much as he liked her, if Gwen wanted a commitment she was out of luck; Owen Harper was never going down that road again. Over the next few days, he had to let her know how he felt.

Seeing Suzie again, talking to her, had unsettled Toshiko Sato's usual calm. Hiding behind the screens on her desk, Toshiko was having to concentrate hard to recapture her belief in the work. Following her own lapses with Mary, she had not been in the best frame of mind to confront Suzie and had bottled it, running away from her until she had no option but to face her. The woman had murdered three people just as a excuse to use the Resurrection Glove and Toshiko could not forgive her for that. And yet, in her heart of hearts, she understood how it was possible to get so carried away with a piece of alien tech that it overrode any sense of right and wrong. Toshiko had felt that fascination, had taken artefacts out of the base to try them in different situations in the same way that Suzie had. Could she, Toshiko, ever be tempted to go as far as Suzie? No, she, Toshiko, would never murder people but who could tell what the consequences might be from any of the things they handled. She might start out wanting to help and end up harming other people. She shuddered at the thought. Glancing up, she saw Gwen deep in thought at her desk and smiled. There had been one benefit of the events of the previous day, she and Gwen had patched up the lingering differences between them and were comfortable with one another again. They would never be bosom pals, they were too different, but at least the breach caused by overhearing Gwen's thoughts had been mended. Concentrating on her screens again, Toshiko went back to checking every nook and cranny of the Torchwood computer system: she should have spotted Suzie's programs and neutralised them before they triggered the lockdown and trapped them in the Hub. She would check everything and then check it again.

Standing on the roof of the Millennium Centre, Jack Harkness was looking out across the Bay. The previous day's events had shaken him more than he was willing to admit to anyone. He had misjudged Suzie Costello so badly and now more people had died because of his lack of foresight, of care for his team. Where had he gone wrong? She had seemed the perfect match for the team he wanted to build. A profiler for the police with great computer and technical skills and a loner, she was a shoo-in. And she had fitted in so well, had taken to the work like a duck to water and been a natural for second-in-command when the team grew. Her interest in the work had never seemed excessive and he had considered her wish to learn more about the artefacts entirely understandable It was the Glove that had changed her. He should have spotted her obsession with it from the start and stopped her murderous rampage. But Jack had not known enough about her personality to see the danger, had not known enough about her family circumstances or cared enough to find out. He should have done. And afterwards, after that first wake up call, he should have checked everything she had ever touched and prevented the recent events then four people would still be alive today and Gwen would not have been put in danger. He shifted his gaze to the water tower below him and thought of his team at their desks under the ground, working to keep this planet safe. He had to get to know them better. Smiling, he thought of Ianto who he had got to know a whole lot better the night before. It was sometime since he had been seduced so successfully – and so pleasurably – and he was looking forward to more encounters with that young man. However, that approach would not work with the others, he would have to devise other means to ensure the pressures of Torchwood and the necessary secrecy did not lead any of them down the same path as Suzie. Only amongst the five of them could they share the dangers and the wonders they saw every day; he had to make sure they talked to one another. With sudden resolution, he left the roof and made his way to the Hub. He would start now.

Ianto had made his way up to the main Hub and was crossing it as Jack strode in through the cog door. "Jack," he smiled, "I was about to order lunch. Any preference?"

"Yeah. I'm taking you out, all of you. Tosh, set the monitor to remote. Owen, wash your hands. Ianto, stay right where you are. And Gwen … stop whatever it is you're doing." They looked at one another and then back at him. "Come on, chop chop." He clapped his hands and waited, hands on hips for them to sort out bags and coats. "How about we try the new Thai place?" he suggested as they filed out of the door.

Lunch was a success and more social events followed during which Jack got to know them better. He thought he was doing well until Owen opened the Rift and led the others in a mutiny before shooting Jack in the head.

* * *

_Like it, loathe it? Let me know._


	21. Changes

_Jack returns to the team to find a number of changes … Set around Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang and drawing on information from The Torchwood Archives._

* * *

**Changes**

The decision to decline The Doctor's offer was not difficult. Jack had had plenty of time to realise that charging round the universe righting wrongs was not enough for him any more, however much fun it could be. Cardiff in the 21st century was where and when he was needed and where and when he wanted to be. He was going to see through the job he had started so reluctantly a century earlier and be with the team he had missed so much. It was therefore something of an anti-climax to descend on the lift to discover the team missing. All keyed up and ready for almost any reaction to his abrupt reappearance, the sight of the empty Hub had floored him for some minutes. If the TARDIS had not run a check for him earlier and confirmed that the team had made it through his absence – three months not two days as The Doctor had promised! – Jack would have been worried.

Walking through the empty space, he noticed a few changes. Piles of equipment had grown or been moved. The work area had been extended and what had been the Boardroom was now a hothouse full of plants. A semi-circular bench had appeared. Moving up the steps he was relieved to see the battered sofa. And Toshiko's glasses were abandoned on her desk amidst piles of files and artefacts. The team obviously hadn't gone far. The Medical Bay was much the same, just a new examination couch, a more comfortable one by the looks of it. Owen's desk was as messy as usual. Jack stepped into his own office and stopped just inside the door. There were changes in here.

He hung his greatcoat on the stand and looked around. The double doors had been removed, making this less like an office and more like a passageway. The desk had been moved from one side of the room to the other with consequent changes to the position of the filing cabinets and other office furniture. Cautiously, Jack sat in the desk chair and tried it out. He felt on view to the team working on the other side of the glass wall but otherwise it was okay. The desk top looked just the same. His coral growing in its dish, the model Spitfire and his other knick-knacks were in place. In fact, they were exactly where he had left them which surprised him. A quick rummage through the desk drawers confirmed that they were as he had left them too. No one had used the desk in his absence - so why move it?

Jack sat back and drank in the sights and smells of … home. He was home again. After a year of hell he was back where he belonged. The only things missing were a cup of coffee and his team, Ianto in particular. Turning round to the PC which was now behind him, he brought up the situation report. He smiled when he saw they were all out chasing a Blowfish sighting in Whitchurch. They had not encountered one of these while he had been with them so it would be a new experience for them. Unless one had appeared while he had been away. Hesitating he decided not to hare off after them, he could wait to see them. As he had the Hub to himself, he decided to check the mission logs for the past three months and see what they had been up to and settled more comfortably in his chair.

Two hours passed quickly for Jack as he scanned the mission logs and even dipped into the team's e-mails. He could not fail to notice the angry comments about him in the latter. Not surprising and it was a warning of the kind of welcome he was likely to receive when they returned to the Hub. He thought about that and decided that just sitting here waiting would not be his best move, they would really go for him then. Better to meet them on more neutral territory first. And, anyway, they should have dealt with a Blowfish by now. What was holding them up? Donning his greatcoat again and checking his Webley, he confirmed their position and locked it into his wrist controls – regretting that it no longer worked as a teleport – before leaving the Hub through the Tourist Office and hailing a taxi.

The taxi dropped him off at the corner of the residential streets and he walked past the houses, most with one or two lights showing as the families inside settled down to a quiet evening in. At a bend in the road, Jack spotted the SUV and a natty red sports car, the latter was just the sort of vehicle the Blowfish went for; this must be the place. The sound of gunfire made him quicken his pace. Ignoring the open front door, Jack went round to the back of the house and eased up to the patio doors. Peering in, he saw the backs of Toshiko and Gwen. Owen was on the floor looking after someone who'd been injured and at the far end of the room, beyond Ianto, was the Blowfish holding a young girl hostage. Jack stood for a moment taking in the first sight of his team, so grateful they were alive. The Blowfish was talking and Jack listened as he tried the doors and found them unlocked. Making no noise, Jack opened one of them and stood in the doorway, Webley in hand. At the right moment, and taking great care not to hit Ianto, Jack fired and the Blowfish fell to the floor.

The four Torchwood team members turned in slow motion to face him. It was a wonderful sight, their faces unbelieving as they realised it was him. "Hey, kids, did you miss me?"

-ooOoo-

The hotel room door closed behind him and Jack flung himself on the bed, not bothering to remove coat or shoes. He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. What a day! Blowfish, the so called John Hart, a messy fall and death and almost losing Gwen. Yep, he thought, he was back.

His mind was too active for sleep so he continued to lie there, going over the events of the day. The team had changed in many ways. He was amazed how supportive of one another they were, how well they worked together; it had not been like that before he left. Toshiko was more confident, she'd had no one else to help analyse the alien technology with him gone. She had risen to the challenge so well, Jack was proud of her. He was also proud of Gwen who had become a good leader. She'd be a pain to deal with over the coming weeks and months but he still admired her courage and conviction. But she was engaged, that had shaken him. He couldn't quite believe that dull, staid old Rhys had had the gumption to propose nor that she had accepted. He was pleased for her yet he felt a tinge of regret for possibilities left unexplored for too long. There were even changes in Owen. No longer the sulky outsider, he had been integrated into the team and had come up with a way to save Gwen's life even while nursing a gunshot wound. Changing had made him stronger.

And then there was Ianto, perhaps the one who had changed the most. Jack smiled when he remembered seeing him for the first time, that slow turn to see who had shot the Blowfish and his amazed look. Jack thought there was some pleasure in the look too, relief that he - Jack - was back safe and sound. God, it had been good to see Ianto alive and well and looking so sexy. It was clear that he, like Owen, had been drawn into the heart of the team, was now a fully paid up member who more than pulled his own weight. Jack was pleased, had always been confident of the other man's abilities. Closing his eyes, he pictured the office he and Ianto had searched together, the little quirks that Jack knew so well and which proved the Welshman was happy to see Jack again even if he was being remote at present. He'd agreed to the date too and Jack intended to set that up very soon; he wanted to feel the young man's lips against his, to press his body against that lithe one, to …

Sitting up abruptly, Jack swallowed hard. Best not to think those thoughts just yet. Suddenly warm, he removed his coat and decided he was still too wired to sleep. Checking the room information pack, he located the swimming pool. A dip in cool water and some exercise was what he needed to settle his mind and his body. The hotel was quiet around him as he travelled down to the lower ground, most guests asleep in their beds. Having to relive a day was inconvenient so Jack had suggested they all stay here, to relax and unwind and give him a chance to get to know them again. He hoped it would work. Obtaining swimming trunks from the attendant, Jack changed and then dived into the pool, settling into a steady crawl for a couple of lengths. Resting at one end, he took the opportunity to look around. There was only one other person in the pool, doing the same as him by the looks of it. Jack watched the smooth overarm strokes and admired the slim body as it drew near him and stopped.

"Couldn't you sleep either?" asked Ianto, removing his goggles.

"No." They smiled at one another, both tentative with a hint of shyness. "How about a race? Two lengths?"

"You're on. What's the prize for the winner?"

"Let's decide that later." The suggestive tone and grin were answered with a raised eyebrow but Jack saw the amused twitch to the lips.

The two men started the race side by side, as equals, just how they hoped start a new relationship.

* * *


	22. Memories

_Set in the first few days of Jack's absence between series one and two. Ianto chases some memories …_

* * *

**Memories**

The pub was busy and the four Torchwood team members were lucky to have secured a corner table away from the constantly shifting mass of drinkers standing between them and the bar. Owen was fighting his way back to them, tray of drinks held protectively and on the alert for sudden movements that would send the liquid over the rims of the glasses and onto the tray.

"Made it," he said, plonking the tray down on the table in the space created by Toshiko. She put their empty glasses, remnants of a couple of hours drinking, on the window sill behind her.

"Cheers, Owen," said Gwen taking her vodka tonic. "What's the toast this time?"

"It's Ianto's turn," smiled Toshiko sipping her white wine.

"Absent colleagues," said Ianto after a moment's thought, lager in his raised hand. The others clinked their glasses to his, silent. They all missed Jack Harkness in their own ways, hiding it behind anger in some cases.

"We are going to be fine. We can cope without him," encouraged Gwen, the mantra she'd been plugging for the past four days.

"Too right," agreed Owen. "He was more of bleeding hindrance than help most of the time."

"That is so unfair!" stormed Ianto, slamming his glass on the table and slopping lager everywhere. "He saved the world from our stupidity. We'd all be dead if it wasn't for him!" Ianto stood up and pushed through the crowd to the door.

Gwen made to go after him but Toshiko, uncharacteristically, stopped her. "No," she said, "let me." She hastened after Ianto and saw him striding away from the pub. "Ianto!"

The Welshman stopped but did not turn to face her. He was angry at Owen, hurt by Jack abandoning them and feeling guilty that Jack may have gone because of them turning against him and opening the Rift. He heard Toshiko's quick footsteps and then she was in front of him, hand on his arm.

"Ianto, you know Owen. He's scared like the rest of us. Scared we won't be able to cope and well aware that he was one that opened the Rift." She rubbed Ianto's arm. "It's all bluster. He doesn't mean it."

"Then he should keep his mouth shut. I'm going back to the Hub." He almost added that he wanted to see if Jack had come back but didn't, she would realise that without him saying it.

"Get some sleep, Ianto. We need you." She stood watching as he walked away, hands in his trouser pockets and head down. He was hurting, she didn't need a pendant to tell her that, and she didn't know how to reach him.

By the time Ianto arrived at the Hub he was calm again. The walk and the night air had soothed him and he entered the base and looked round, hoping … but his hopes weren't realised. Jack was not there. Ianto couldn't go home, couldn't bear to leave the Hub unattended even though the remote alert would have told him – and the others – of any Rift activity. He wandered around, not even having any rubbish to clear. As had happened every night since Jack had been gone, he ended up in the office, lightly running a hand over the desk, fingering the coral and realigning the model spitfire. He stood looking out through the grubby glass walls to the Hub beyond. There were so many memories of Jack in this place, good and bad, that Ianto could not believe that the man was gone for good. He had to come back, he had to.

Ianto tried to organise his memories, to put them in order. He certainly recalled his first visit to the Hub, when he and Jack had manhandled the sedated Pteranodon in through the garage doors; he had nearly given himself a hernia. He had been amazed at the size of the Hub and the mix of old and new architecture, the smell of damp and the untidiness of the place. Seeing it was so different from what he had imagined from the records he'd scanned at Torchwood One and he'd known at once that this was the ideal place for Lisa. Back in the present, Ianto closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He still missed Lisa but the ache in his heart for her was less every day, replaced now by the searing pain of missing Jack.

Sitting in Jack's chair, he looked round the office, anything to get his thoughts away from Lisa. Methodically, he surveyed the room from one corner to the next and then the next and so on. The bank of monitors held his attention for a while, he still didn't understand the information displayed there despite Jack and Toshiko's explanations. Finally, his gaze rested on the empty coat stand, looking bereft without the familiar greatcoat, and the closed hatch down to Jack's quarters. Ianto had been down there only once in the past four days and had retreated quickly, he hadn't been ready for the abandoned look of the small room. Wanting to distract himself, his gaze moved up to the door of the secure archives. Such as small, narrow door for the huge archive housed on a sealed floor below, the alien technology the only way to gain access to the various dangerous and amazing artefacts stored there.

With sudden decision, Ianto stood up and went to the door and opened it quickly, punching in the combination and then the code for the item he wanted. The box arrived and he took it to Jack's desk before breaking the seal and removing it. So small a thing to hold such power. He held the two halves in his hands and wondered if he had the courage to use it. He did. Sitting on the sofa in the work area, he placed one half on the cushion beside him and took the other in both hands, holding it loosely he pressed the buttons.

_The air shimmered and the Hub was bathed in red light – lockdown. Heavy, metallic footsteps were marching to the Medical Bay. He felt cold, wet and lost in a profound darkness.. He was lying in the pool, half in and half out and Jack was nearby. Jack was pulling him from the water, Ianto could see him do it, and turning him, holding him, kissing him. The darkness was shattered and light and life and feeling flooded through the dead body and he was dead no longer. Ianto felt the life returning even as he saw himself react to movement and sounds from the Medical Bay. Saw himself running to the entrance and stop in horror when he saw Lisa with a screwdriver in her stomach. _

He pulled his hands off the Quantum Transducer and let it fall into his lap, his hands were shaking too much to hold it. The feelings overwhelmed him and it took some minutes for his breathing to return to normal. It was true, Jack had brought him back to life, those hazy wisps of memory were true. Jack had saved his life and said nothing about it. Ianto had hoped for a happier memory but was content with what he had got. He glanced down at the machine lying on his lap and wondered at the power it contained to bring back memories so vividly. He picked it up and pressed the buttons again.

"_You know you want to, Ianto. Just admit it and we'd save so much time." _

_Jack was pressed against him, his whole body in contact with Ianto's as he held him trapped against the wall between the sofa and the entrance to the Medical Bay. Ianto felt hot and bothered even as he watched his other self try to wriggle free. _

"_I have work to do." _

_He saw himself continue to make futile attempts to fend off Jack while feeling the need building up inside him. And then the attempts at escape ceased and he was locked in one of those kisses that sent waves of sensation from his lips to his groin. He felt the arousal build as he watched himself and Jack, hands searching under clothes as their lips remained locked together. The chill shocked him as his suit and shirt were removed, torn from him by his own hands, and then the chill was gone and he was in Jack's arms again, hot as the passion made his heart pump furiously, going on and on and on until there was a release, a climax and the pace of his heartbeat slowed and a more gentle feeling flowed through him, lassitude and love for Jack. They lay in one another's arms on the cold floor. _

Ianto gasped as the memories left him. He looked down and saw a small damp patch on the front of his trousers. Sex with Jack had always been incredible, a kaleidoscope of emotions and feelings and at the end total satisfaction. This place had been their playground and they had played some amazing 'games'. Ianto smiled at the memories but all too soon the pain of his loss returned. Would he ever again feel Jack's arms around him? Be pleasured by him? This ghost machine in his hand could give him those feelings and banish the pain for a little while. Like a junkie, he pressed the buttons for his next fix.

_He felt confusion, horror and looked on as Jack went from body to body, feeling his loss as he realised these colleagues, these friends, were dead. Shot to death. The Hub was different, the water tower was missing, and the man sitting in the far corner was a stranger to Ianto but he recognised him through Jack's feelings. This was Alex, his leader, someone he respected, and this man had killed the rest of the team. Horror turned to pity, to remorse, to regret as Alex spoke. A final desperate plea as Jack understood what was going to happen, as he was splattered with hot arterial blood. Then overwhelming sorrow, a sorrow so deep …_

Ianto found he was curled up in a ball on the sofa. He breathed slowly and allowed his brain to remember, grateful when he only felt the constant pain of missing Jack. When Alex had killed himself, Jack's sorrow and pain had revealed a depth of loss built up over the ages as more and more people had died and left Jack alone. Ianto had never experienced anything like it and could not cope with it, he shied away from recalling it. Records may tell the story of events on New Year's Eve 1999 but they were cold, hard facts and this had been devastating, debilitating feelings. Slowly, Ianto sat up. He hadn't expected the machine to allow him to feel anyone else's emotions despite knowing that that was what had happened to both Gwen and Owen. He had wanted to relive happier times of his own. He found the two halves of the ghost machine on the floor and picked them up. Using this had not been a great success, he should put it back where it belonged, under lock and key.

He hesitated, if he used it once more would it wipe away the memory of Jack's incredible depth of sorrow? Or would it make him experience another horror filled moment? He pressed the buttons.

"_Your coffee, sir." _

"_Oh, that is so good." _

_Ianto watched himself and Jack in the office. Jack was at his desk looking up at the other Ianto, smiling that gentle smile. Feelings of well-being and contentment washed over the watching Ianto but they were not his feelings, they were Jack's. He was admiring the younger man, gaining pleasure from the sight of the man in a suit. The other Ianto left the room, walked across the work area and down the steps and along by the pool. And the watching Ianto felt Jack's love for him as the older man's eyes followed the besuited figure until it disappeared._

This time Ianto held on to the machine. The love he had felt was so pure, so gentle and nothing like the lust he had imagined Jack felt. He – Ianto – did mean something to Jack, he was not just a part-time shag, a way to pass a few lonely nights. If only Jack had said, had indicated that this was what he felt then Ianto would have been reassured. Would have returned the love openly instead of hiding it behind a mere willingness to share the older man's bed. A stray tear ran down Ianto's cheek. He and Jack had missed sharing their love for one another because neither was brave enough to speak of it.

Ianto looked down at the machine in his hands. It had worked, using it had taken him to a good time and provided the reassurance he needed to carry on waiting. Jack loved him. Despite the burden of sorrow he carried with him, Jack had been willing to love again. The least Ianto could do was stay true to him, keep a light burning in the window so Jack could find his way home. Because Ianto did not believe that Jack would stay away unless he was being held against his will. He would be back and Ianto would be waiting.

Rising, Ianto went back to the office but realised that he had forgotten the other half of the ghost machine. Going back for it, he stood for a moment looking at the two pieces in his hands. If he put them together he could glimpse the future, could see if Jack returned. No, he argued with himself, that was madness. Look what had happened to Gwen when she did the self same thing. He shouldn't do it. He placed the two halves together and pressed the buttons.

_The Hub was a mess, papers and dust everywhere. Fear, he felt the fear of the three people standing in front of him. Jack had his arms round Gwen and another Ianto, was hugging them to him. It was Jack who was the most afraid, the watching Ianto could make that out now, a bone-deep terror and helplessness. Gwen and the other Ianto were frightened too but their fear was tinged with confusion as if they did not know what was coming. But Jack knew what it was. A dangerous, remorseless foe that was unbeatable. That Jack could not defeat, alone or with Gwen and Ianto's help.. _

"_There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry," said Jack. "We're dead." _

Ianto pulled the machine apart and threw the two pieces across the work area. No, he would not believe it. The future could not be so bleak. They were Torchwood and they would find a way, somehow, to defeat whatever danger threatened them and Earth. The future Jack had got it wrong, Torchwood would prevail. Ianto had to believe that. He went to pick up the machine and sudden realisation hit him. If that was the future then Jack WAS coming back. He would return to them. All Ianto had to do was wait and he would see the man again.

For the first time in four days, Ianto smiled.

* * *

_Hoping to write something a little lighter for next time, it's all getting rather angsty._


	23. Raspberry Ripple Dream

_Please note this chapter is rated M__. _

_Jack, Ianto and some ice cream …_

* * *

**Raspberry Ripple Dream**

Sitting in the car outside his flat was not Ianto's idea of fun. He had been there for ten minutes and was getting more and more irritated. And hot. For once the sun was shining and the car was getting very warm even with the windows and driver's door open. It was all Jack's fault, as was so much else in Ianto's life he decided. He speed dialled Jack on his mobile, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for him to pick up.

"Ianto, just wait a little bit longer." Jack sounded breathless which did not bode well.

"I'm coming in, Jack. Whatever you are planning, whatever mess you have made of my flat, I am coming in." He snapped the mobile closed and climbed from the car. Locking it, he walked quickly into the building and up the two flights to his flat.

Jack opened the door just as Ianto was about to insert his key. He was wearing only a T-shirt and underpants and looked dishevelled, as if he'd been doing something strenuous. "Ianto, I could have done with another couple of minutes but I have finished." He stepped aside and let the other man into the flat.

Ianto put his keys in his pocket at the same time peering round. The hallway looked as usual but the flat seemed cold. On this sunny day, with the windows facing south, it should been as hot as his car so why was it beautifully cold? "What have you done?" he asked, moving into the main living room. He stopped dead.

"You see I took precautions. Everything's been covered so there won't be any mess to clear up. We just roll up the plastic when we're done." Jack was behind Ianto and eased the suit jacket off the unresisting shoulders. "I had to lower the temperature a bit or it would have melted." He moved round in front of his lover and undid his tie and removed it before beginning on the shirt buttons.

Ianto stood motionless staring round at his normally immaculate room. His furniture was pushed to one end and shrouded in green plastic as was the floor. In one corner a large air conditioner unit – which had obvious alien modifications - was humming, the source of the cold air. But all this was as nothing to the large children's paddling pool in the middle of the floor. The sides were about three feet high and it must have been ten feet in diameter, almost meeting the walls on both sides. It was filled with … Ianto did not believe his eyes and stepped forward to look more closely. It was filled with ice cream, raspberry ripple ice cream.

"Why?" he said feebly, waving at the pool and its contents. He was vaguely aware of Jack removing his – Ianto's - shoes and socks and then undoing his belt.

Jack grinned, that feral grin that bespoke mischief of the highest order. "This is your dream, that's what you said. Hot day," he waved an arm towards the window, "and the luxury of bathing in ice cream. Time to fulfil that dream … with the added advantage of me to share it." He waggled his eyebrows as he unzipped Ianto's fly and inserted his hand against the man's cock. He took the limp member in his hand and rubbed and squeezed it expertly, feeling it go hard immediately. "Sex in an ice cream bath … ooh, out of this world," he murmured, lips close to Ianto's ear.

As pleasurable sensations pulsed through him, Ianto closed his eyes and moaned. Jack abandoned the man's cock and pulled the trousers and briefs down to his ankles and removed them quickly. Dropping his own few clothes on the floor, he pressed his naked body up against Ianto's. Jack's skin was cold from being in the air conditioned room for so long and Ianto shivered. With hands on Ianto's arse and lips welded in one long lingering kiss Jack pulled Ianto to the paddling pool and stepped in.

"This is ridiculous," murmured Ianto when they parted for breath. He was still standing on the floor.

"Come on in, the ice cream's lovely," invited Jack, hands now travelling up and down Ianto's spine.

Ianto raised one foot, holding on to Jack to support, and tested the ice cream with a solitary toe. "Jeez, that's cold." He withdrew his foot.

Standing in the pool, Jack refused to release Ianto who was resolutely standing on the plastic covered carpet. "Please," begged Jack, making the big, pleading eyes that looked so like those of Griffin, the Jones family's dog when Ianto had been small. "I only did it for you."

"I am so going to regret this," sighed Ianto but placed a foot into the foot high ice cream. He shivered again.

"Come on!" Jack took a step backwards then flopped into the ice cream, pulling Ianto down with him. With squelching sounds and yelps from the Welshman, Jack rolled them over twice until he was lying on top of Ianto, cradling his head in his hands. "You are so hot." He licked some ice cream that had squirted onto his lover's nose.

Now fully encased in the weird bath, Ianto stopped resisting. What was the point? He was caked in ice cream as was Jack and it was deliciously cold. He reached up and nibbled at a dollop of ice cream on Jack's cheek. "Strangely, having sex in the ice cream was not part of my childhood dream," he commented dryly.

"But this is such fun," said Jack, kissing Ianto hard.

Ianto succumbed to the kiss then arched his back and dislodged Jack, turning him over and getting on top in a trice. He straddled him, took great handfuls of ice cream and laid it on Jack's chest before lying on top of him creating an ice cream sandwich. It oozed out from their sides and dripped into the mush in the paddling pool. He kissed Jack, reaching down between their bodies to rub at the man's erection. Despite the cold surrounding them, both men were aroused and remained so as they wrestled in the slimy, dessert. Hands reached, grasped, touched, stroked and squeezed as they battled for supremacy. Lips locked together then apart, tongues lapping at skin and teeth nipping enticingly at neck and shoulder blades before travelling lower to give mutual blow jobs. Their entwined bodies rolled over and over in the ice cream, first Ianto on top then Jack, sometimes side by side. Finally, Jack entered Ianto amid the rapidly melting dessert and they both climaxed for the second time.

"Okay?" asked Jack, kneeling between Ianto's legs and looking down on the slimy body of his lover.

"Ummm." Ianto lay spread-eagled, a smile on his face.

He was coated in ice cream from the top of his head to his toes and he didn't care. His childhood fantasy, dreamt up when he was five years old during a very hot summer, had taken on a whole new aspect. This was definitely a grown up version of his fantasy and he had Jack to thank for it. He smiled up at his boss and lover. Jack was smirking, he knew he had satisfied Ianto, of course he did.

"Good." Jack leant down and kissed Ianto softly. He tasted of raspberries and cream.

"How did you do this?" Ianto waved a hand languorously. "You can't have gone to Tesco and bought tubs and tubs of ice cream."

"Went to a catering supplier. Five, five gallon drums it took to fill this thing." Jack was sitting back against the sides of the inflatable paddling pool.

Ianto pulled himself up to sit opposite, the two men's legs tangled together. "Should have kept some to eat." He ran a hand through the mainly pink liquid at the bottom of the pool.

"I did. There's a couple of containers in the freezer."

They sat in silence for a while, smiling at one another and using their toes to explore. When Ianto shivered, the air conditioning still keeping the room very cold; it was his signal to move.

"I'm going to shower," announced Ianto, standing up carefully; the pool was very slippery.

"I'll join you."

"Oh no you won't. You've got to clear this up first." Ianto was out of the pool and stood , hands on hips staring at him.

"What? All on my own?" Jack looked aghast from Ianto to the mess in the pool where he was kneeling and back again.

"You made the mess, Jack, you clear it up. Get cracking."

Ianto turned and made for the bathroom, stepping gingerly. He ignored Jack's pleas and complaints, a small smile on his face. That would teach him to make a mess of the flat.

* * *

_This was inspired by a dare from Candybree on the forum Torchwood Writers Synonymous – thanks Candy!_


	24. Being Fit

_Gwen has a day off and Rhys makes a surprising decision …_

* * *

**Being Fit**

A day off was a rare event when one worked for Torchwood and Gwen Cooper aimed to make the most of it. She got up when Rhys did but slopped around in her knickers and T-shirt getting breakfast while he showered and got ready for a day at Harwoods Haulage. She poured the coffee into the mugs as he made his appearance looking scrubbed and smelling of Calvin Klein.

"Eggs will just be a minute, love. Sit down and drink your coffee."

"This is more like it. Little woman cooking my breakfast for me. Knew there was a reason I married you." Rhys grinned as Gwen shot him a dirty look. "What are you doing today?" He sipped the coffee. It was the good stuff. There had been a time she was happy to drink Nescafé but now it had to be beans and a cafetiére.

"Going to clean this place this morning. Just look at it," she swept her eyes round the room as she placed the plate of scrambled egg on toast in front of him, "what a tip." She put eggs on her own plate and sat down at the breakfast bar beside her husband.

"That it?" he asked round a mouthful of food. "You should relax a bit, you work too hard."

"Tell that to Jack!" She had a treat in mind for the afternoon but she wasn't going to let on.

"I will, if you want me too." He made a grab for his mobile.

"Don't be daft, Rhys. I'm off today, aren't I?" She smiled at him. For all her independence she liked his protective streak.

"Yeah. If you'd given me a bit of notice I'd have been off too, only I've got two new blokes starting and - "

"I don't mind. Tell you what, I'll cook us something special tonight. Lemon chicken maybe." It was the one dish she could do without thinking and it always turned out right.

"You're on. I'll pick up some wine, we're almost out of the good stuff." He took the last forkful of his eggs and chewed quickly. "That was great, love." A last swallow of the coffee and he was standing, putting mobile, keys and wallet in his pockets. "Got to go, want to get set up before these blokes arrive." He leant in and kissed her with a wet smacking noise. "See you tonight, round six."

"Go careful," she called as he walked out the room. She had a big smile on her face as she finished her meal. Rhys was a great bloke, she had won the lottery when she found him.

She piled the dirty dishes on the side and changed into track suit bottoms and a clean but old T-shirt. The flat really needed attention and she was going to blitz the place. She started by opening all the windows and letting in some fresh air; that would blow the lingering cooking and other smells away. In the bedroom, she stripped the bed and re-made it with crisp new sheets that smelt of softener. Next, she picked up all the dirty clothes - wondering what genetic trait made men drop their clothes on the floor and leave them there for months - and put them in the laundry basket. The dirty sheets went into the washing machine before she cleaned the bathroom from top to bottom, including the soap dish that looked disgusting. The living room was tidied in double quick time, throwing away the stack of magazines no one was going to read again and dusting everywhere. Washing up came next and included some ornaments that had changed colour with the accumulated grime. Rhys had done the oven recently so that was okay, the hob needed a good scrub though as did the sink and she set to with a scouring pad. Gwen's final task was to run the vacuum cleaner through the whole flat.

When all was done she looked round with satisfaction. It was eleven thirty and she was on schedule for her afternoon appointment with some seriously hunky men. She showered and washed her hair, regretting that she was getting the bathroom dirty so soon. Oh well, couldn't be helped. She put on a skirt and top and some heels. Chasing round Cardiff after aliens demanded trousers and boots but today she wanted to feel feminine again, those men deserved it. A trip to the supermarket didn't dampen her high spirits and she had all the ingredients for the evening meal plus a gooey gateau. Just before two o'clock, she made herself another cup of coffee – not quite as good as Ianto's but close – a sandwich and a bowl of strawberries and cream before settling on the sofa.

She turned on the TV and there they were, a couple of fit men walking out onto the court. She adored Wimbledon.

Just before six o'clock, Rhys put his key in the lock of his front door and stepped inside. He heard the TV and smelt cooking so knew Gwen was still here, that she had not been called into work by that slave driver Harkness. Truth be told, now Rhys knew what Torchwood did he didn't mind quite so much if she was working – their work was important – except for the worry it caused him. She was the love of his life and he could not think of life without her. He was about to call out when he heard male voices and it wasn't the TV.

Rounding the corner he took the steps down into his living room where Gwen was sat on the sofa next to Jack bloody Harkness. They were both looking at the TV and had not noticed him. In the chair, Ianto Jones looked over and smiled.

"Hello, Rhys."

"Ianto. Gwen, what's going on?" Rhys dropped his keys and mobile into the dish on the side where they lived.

"Hello, sweetheart. Jack and Ianto just popped round." She smiled at him, that wide, gap-toothed smile that melted his heart every time Rhys saw it.

"So I see." He stood looking at them. The three of them were close now they had lost Toshiko and Owen and battled the Daleks. Rhys didn't begrudge Gwen their friendship but he did feel left out. "No aliens to catch, then?"

"Not at the moment," drawled Jack, looking up at Rhys. He grinned that slow smile and Rhys wanted to punch him out. There was just something about the guy that made Rhys insanely jealous.

"We should be going," said Ianto, standing up. "Come on, Jack."

"Ahh, do we have to? This guy is seriously fit." Jack pointed at the TV screen where two tennis players were beating the hell out of a small yellow ball as it sailed back and forwards across the net.

"You can watch it at my place." He looked at Jack steadily.

Jack smiled up at 'his' Welshman. That look in Ianto's eye told him that they would be doing so much more than watching the tennis. "Okay." Jack was on his feet and reaching for his greatcoat in an instant.

The two men were gone within a few minutes and Gwen took the opportunity to check on the meal. "Good day, love?" she asked as she passed him, giving him a quick kiss.

"Not bad." He watched her, taking in the skirt and sexy top. She looked great.

"Those new blokes okay?" She checked the chicken – it needed another fifteen minutes. As she worked, she glanced at the TV to check on the match's progress.

"Seem to be." Rhys put the bottle of wine on the side and looked at the TV himself. He had never been particularly bothered about tennis, it was a game for toffs not lads like him. "What do you see in this?" he asked, gesturing to the TV.

"Fit men in white with great legs and a lovely tan and, if I'm very lucky, a glimpse of a very nice six-pack." She grinned.

Unconsciously, Rhys pulled in his stomach. He knew he didn't have a great physique, not like that Jack, but he tried to keep in shape a bit. Gwen saw him and smiled, he was such a klutz sometimes. She loved him as he was and didn't want him to change, although losing a few pounds wouldn't hurt him especially round his middle.

"Hey, I like to look at them but I like to cuddle you." She wrapped her arms round him and hugged him tight, kissing him soundly.

"I know I'm not very fit. I was thinking of doing a bit more exercise," he blustered, arms round her and enjoying the feel of her breasts against his chest. At the back of his mind, he was wondering if she would be up for a quickie. Probably not, he concluded.

"Right. Oh, Rhys, you are so funny," she laughed, pulling away. "Meal will be about quarter of an hour if you want to change." She sat down again, eyes on the screen.

"Hey, I mean it. Gary at work goes running, thought I might join him."

"You!? You'd probably have a heart attack. Make sure the life insurance is up to date before you start," she laughed.

"Don't laugh, Gwen, I'm serious." He hadn't been when he had started this conversation but he was now. Rhys was an easy going guy but he had a determined streak and that kicked in now. "I was thinking of running the marathon."

She stopped laughing and stared up at him. "You really will give yourself a heart attack if you do that. You don't need to do it for me, I love you just as you are, Rhys Williams."

"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for me."

With that he walked from the room. As he stood under the shower he wondered what had possessed him to say what he had, he was getting as mad as Banana Boat. But at the same time, he rather liked the idea. It would be a way of showing Gwen that he could get fit. He determined to talk to Gary the following day and to see what this running lark entailed.

In 2009, Rhys Williams ran the London marathon in a little over five hours to the mingled amazement and pride of his wife.

* * *

_For anyone who doesn't know, Kai Owen did complete the 2009 London marathon in that time. Congratulations and kudos to him._


	25. Flannelled Fool

_Some Janto courtesy of a matchmaker .._

* * *

**Flannelled Fool**

The thud came again, something heavy was hitting a wall somewhere in the Hub.

Toshiko peered round her screens but she couldn't see anyone. Checking her watch she was not surprised. It was gone midnight and she was still working on the upgrade Owen had requested. She sighed. There was no need for her to be here so late, Owen had gone home hours ago and was not chasing her for the upgrade anyway. She just wanted to do this for him, more evidence of her slavish desire to get him to notice her.

Another thud.

This time Toshiko got up and walked down the steps to the lower level. It was not coming from this floor, perhaps someone was in trouble and they were trying to attract attention. Going back to her desk, she got her swipe card and walked to the armoury, listening hard. She was reaching in for her Glock when …

Thud.

It was the curved outer wall. The sound must be coming from one of the lower levels and causing a sympathetic reverberation. Gun in hand, she ran lightly down the steps to the next level and along the corridor. This level housed some of the equipment the team routinely used in carrels opening off a long, straight corridor with one right angle bend. The lighting was poor, as on all the lower levels, and Toshiko advanced cautiously.

Crack. Thud.

There were two distinct sounds now, just around the dogleg in the corridor ahead. She ran forward and rounded the corner with the Glock extended in both hands before her.

"Hey, Tosh, you still here?" Jack grinned at her.

Feeling foolish, she lowered the gun, holding it loosely in one hand, and walked forward to join him. "What are you doing?"

"Practising. Got a match on Sunday." A machine several yards in front of him let loose a ball and he waited, judged the speed correctly and hit it at the wall where it made a loud thud.

"Jack, what is going on?" She looked at him in confusion.

"Told you, got a match. Someone's pulled out so they called on me. Got to be at match fitness." He hit another ball.

"What match? What is that you're using?"

Jack looked at her, astonishment clear on his face. "Toshiko Sato, surely you can see it's a cricket bat? I'm playing for the Prince of Wales." He moved fast to hit the next ball but missed it. Toshiko had to sidestep quickly to avoid being hit. "You're distracting me," he complained.

"Prince Charles? Cricket?" Jack Harkness was a man of many secrets but links with Royalty and playing cricket? Surely not. She must be dreaming.

"Not Prince Charles," scoffed Jack. He went to the machine and turned it off. "I'm turning out for the Prince of Wales, the pub. We're playing the Fox and Hounds, bit of a grudge match."

Toshiko's mouth fell open and she gaped at him. "Do you even know how to play cricket?" she asked finally.

"Yes! I played regularly back in the sixties." His face took on a dreamy, faraway look and he folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "Who couldn't like a game where the players dress in crisp white flannels? Where the bowlers rub the ball in their groin to get a shine and then bowl googlies. Where there's a silly mid on, slips and short leg and … Oh, I could go on." He grinned at her. "Want to come watch?"

"I don't know," she said immediately. It was all too easy to get dragged into things by Jack and regret it later. "I wouldn't understand what was going on."

"No problem. There will be plenty of people to explain it to you." He looked at her bashfully. "Actually, if you come then maybe Ianto will change his mind and come too."

"He's said 'no'?"

Jack sighed and pushed himself off the wall to stand up straight. "Yeah. His exact words were 'It's a poncy game for Englishmen'." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked so dejected Toshiko had to smile.

"I suppose I could come," she said slowly. "But only if Ianto comes too. I'm not coming on my own."

Jack sprang forward and hugged her, lifting her off the ground. "Great. Let's go call him and get him to change his mind."

"Not now!" she protested. "He'll be in bed. I'll talk to him in the morning."

"Great! What is the time?" He checked his watch. "You should go home, Tosh."

"Think I shall. You coming?" she asked when he made no move to walk with her.

"Nooo, think I'll get in a bit more practice." He grinned and walked back to the machine, picking up his bat.

Toshiko went back to the main level, the thud of balls against the wall once again reverberating round the base.

-ooOoo-

Sunday was a fine, sunny day much to Ianto's dismay. Against his better judgement, he had been persuaded to change his mind and accompany Toshiko to the afternoon cricket match. He picked her up and they drove to the ground in a recreational park. After parking the car, they sat for several minutes.

"This is such a bad idea," said Ianto eventually. His hands still gripped the steering wheel. "Shall we say there was a Rift alert?" He looked across at her.

"Too late." She nodded out of the windscreen. "Jack's seen us."

Following her gaze, Ianto saw Jack and his eyes went out on stalks. The older man was wearing all white gear and he looked seriously gorgeous. "Wow."

"How many people will be playing this game?" she asked unbuckling her seatbelt, her eyes on Jack's lithe figure. "Because if they all look like that I think I may get to like it."

"Eleven in each team. Maybe it won't be so bad after all." They shared a grin and got out of the car, walking over to join the wildly gesticulating Jack.

"What took you so long? Come on, I've got seat for you by the pavilion." He led them proudly round the ground to a small group of wooden chairs and benches. "All the players' guests watch from here." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "We'll be fielding first so you'll be able to watch my athletic form in the slips."

"Jack, we're just about ready," called a tall thin bloke.

"Just coming. Enjoy!" he called as he jogged away to join his team mates on the pavilion steps.

The afternoon was warm and the traditional sound of leather on willow, punctuated by occasional shouts of 'Howzat' lulled the two watching Torchwood operatives in a dreamy state. Ianto knew a bit about the game, had even played while at school for a couple of years, so was able to explain the rudiments to Toshiko who had never watched a game in her life before. Their attention was mainly on Jack, of course, and both smiled at the man's obvious enjoyment. He was flinging himself at any ball that came his way and finally made a diving catch that drew an appreciative round of applause from the spectators.

The afternoon wore on and once Toshiko understood that cricket was supposed to be played at this slow pace, she relaxed and enjoyed the sunshine and the view. The teams were not particularly athletic – some looked completely the opposite – but there were enough trim figures in white moving around the field to keep her interested. When the stumps were sent flying once again, the players started walking off the pitch.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"They're all out. It'll be the Prince of Wales side to bat now." Ianto answered, not interested in the cricket but enjoying the lazy afternoon away from Weevils and the like.

"And they have to get more points than the Fox and Goose?"

"Runs. They're called runs. But yes, they have to beat the amazing score of eighty one all out." Ianto was not impressed by the score or the players he had seen, a mix of young and old men who had either tried too hard or been too slow to run between the wickets.

Jack ran over to them as the players filed into the pavilion. "So, what do you think? Did you see my catch?" He was endearingly enthusiastic.

"We saw. Very … athletic," commented Ianto dryly.

"You were fantastic," said Toshiko. She was feeling so relaxed she didn't mind bolstering his ego. "Ianto tells me you'll be batting now."

"After tea. Got to have that first." With a wave he disappeared into the pavilion.

"Tea?" queried Toshiko, looking at Ianto.

"Oh yes, this game invented by Englishmen stops for afternoon tea." He eased himself up from his comfortable position. "Fancy a drink?"

The two strolled over to a marquee where the two pubs had combined to provide a bar for spectators. A steady stream of spectators had been in and out all afternoon and there was a rowdy group of beer drinkers but luckily they had been watching from the other side of the ground. Ianto bought a lager for himself and a Pimms for Toshiko as well as a couple of pieces of cake and they took these back to their seats. The cake had been eaten when Jack bounded over again. Toshiko was reminded of Owen's nickname for their leader – Tigger – and sniggered. He was being very 'Tiggerish' today.

"It's a good game, don't you think?" he said, sitting on the grass in front of them. "Their number two was good, gave us a bit of trouble."

Ianto and Jack talked cricket which went over Toshiko's head despite the instruction she had received that afternoon. She watched the two men and smiled. The ultra-confident Jack had disappeared and been replaced by one who was anxious for Ianto's attention and approval. He was really smitten by the Welshman who obviously liked the older man but was unwilling to commit himself. She thought it would be interesting to see how their 'romance' developed. Maybe she'd help it along a little bit.

Players began appearing from the pavilion and taking up their positions on the field. "Shouldn't you be doing something?" asked Toshiko, looking at Jack who had turned to watch.

"No. I'm batting number five. I'll stay here with you two." He grinned at them over his shoulder before settling close to Ianto, his back resting against the other man's legs. Ianto didn't seem to mind.

Unfortunately, Jack was required to play sooner than he had anticipated. The first two batsmen were out when the score was only nine and there was only another ten runs on the board when Jack walked out, pads on and bat in hand, to try and save the day. His first ball was from a spin bowler who had got all three wickets but Jack had his measure from the start and whacked the ball away on the off-side and took two runs. He scored a four off the last ball of the over and became the team's highest scorer. His run of success continued and the score was soon fifty for four. Another couple of batsmen were beaten by the bowling but Jack remained in place, scoring steadily and reached his half century with a superb cover drive that went for four. The crowd was appreciative, cheering loudly.

From his seat by the pavilion Ianto cheered more loudly than the rest. He had not wanted to come this afternoon, had thought it would be boring and the first innings had not changed his mind. He had also feared Jack would be humiliated, after all what did a man from the 51st century know about cricket? But he had played well, taking advantage of gaps in the field and showing a skill Ianto had not expected. Jack had obviously played before, perhaps at a higher level than a pub friendly. Beside Ianto, Toshiko was also clapping wildly. She did not understand the game, probably never would, but she liked the sight of Jack whacking the ball around the ground and all the others having to hare after it.

Shortly after reaching his fifty, Jack hit the ball away and he and his partner ran the final two runs to secure victory. The Prince of Wales had scored eighty two for seven and Jack was fifty seven not out. He was cheered by the opposing team and his own team mates came out to meet him and clap him into the pavilion. As he passed, Jack managed to flash a grin in Ianto and Toshiko's direction.

"That was fun," said Toshiko grinning. "Jack did very well."

"He did. Never thought he'd have it in him," admitted Ianto.

"Glad you came?" she asked impishly.

"Yes." He was well aware of her matchmaking and refused to look at her. "I expect he'll want to celebrate with the rest of the team. We should get going."

"What? No, I want to wait for him." Toshiko sat back down, refusing to believe that Jack would want them to go without saying a word.

Reluctantly, Ianto sat down too. "He'll be ages. He's got to change and everyone will want to talk to him."

"There's only one person Jack wants to talk to and he's sitting next to me." She looked at him pointedly. "Surely you recognise that?" He had the grace to blush but said nothing.

Ten minutes later, Jack erupted from the pavilion. He had got changed quickly, ignoring the congratulations from the players as much as he could and still be relatively polite. He knew Ianto and quite expected him to have sloped off without a word which was not what Jack wanted at all. It was with relief that Jack saw the Welshman and Toshiko waiting for him and he ran over to them.

"You're still here. Thought you might have gone." He stood in front of them, a bag containing his kit dangling from his hand. He looked from one to another, his wistful gaze finally resting on Ianto.

"You were great, Jack," said Toshiko, reaching up to give him a kiss. "That was fabulous hitting."

"Batting," corrected Ianto. "Yes, well done, Jack." He stuck out his hand.

Jack took it but pulled him into a hug. "Told you I could play."

"And I should have believed you."

"Where are we going now?" asked Toshiko, linking her arms through those of the two men. She began walking to Ianto's car pulling them with her. "I'm hungry."

"We could try that Italian, the new one," suggested Jack, grinning.

"That would be good. I fancy some pasta. Okay with you, Ianto?"

"Sure."

The three of piled into the car and Ianto drove into the city centre and parked. Jack left his kit in the car and then they walked to the restaurant where they had a simple but well cooked meal and chatted about the afternoon and other things. After desserts, Toshiko declined coffee but waited until the men had ordered theirs before saying she had to leave. Waving aside their objections, she managed to leave them at the table together, a small grin on her face and a wink for Jack.

"She arranged this," said Ianto, looking after her.

"I think so. Sorry?" Jack looked at the Welshman steadily, pleased when Ianto met his gaze.

"No."

Both men smiled and began chatting about other things.

* * *

_Ah, just a bit of fluff for a hot day. Hope you enjoyed it._


	26. A Small Accident

_A little drabble … This was orginally part of a longer story but I think it stands alone._

* * *

**A Small Accident**

"You have got to sort this out," complained Ianto, fighting through the pile of items balanced precariously in the cabinet. He knew the Folydian Circlet was in there, he'd seen it when Jack had shown him around down here, it was just buried behind mounds of other artefacts that Jack had added to his personal horde.

"Why? It's not doing anyone any harm." Jack was lying half propped up on his bed in the manner of a Roman emperor eating a banana very suggestively.

It was the middle of the afternoon and Jack had come down to his quarters to change after having his shirt and trousers shredded by a Weevil. He had been delighted when Ianto had appeared – unfortunately too late to join him in the shower – only to find that it was not Jack he was seeking, it was the Circlet. However, lying on his bed watching Ianto poke about in the cabinet was entertaining.

"Then let me sort all this and add it to the archives."

"Not yet, I want to look at them properly before they disappear never to be seen again."

"Are you implying something?" Ianto twisted round to fix Jack with a gimlet stare. He wouldn't let anyone criticise his archives.

"No, no, Ianto. The archives are in great shape, better than they have been in years. It's just …"

"What?" asked the Welshman ominously.

"It's just … that items are filed so well that …" Jack was finding it hard to continue the sentence with Ianto staring at him like that. "That I don't like to disturb them."

Ianto narrowed his eyes and turned back to the cabinet. "Aha," he cried, spotting the Circlet. He got a hand to it and wriggled it out from under a pile of boxes. "This is what I wanted." He made for the ladder up into the Hub. "I'll leave you to your banana."

"Very good for you, bananas. Lots of potassium."

Ianto was just climbing off the ladder into Jack's office when there was an almighty crash beneath him followed by a series of smaller ones. He hastily put the circlet to one side, lay on the floor and popped his head through the hatch. He saw Jack still lying on the bed with a frozen look of horror on his face and a thin layer of brick dust settling on him and his banana. Following his boss's gaze, Ianto saw the cabinet where he had so recently been rummaging had fallen from the wall taking it with it four others. Only one of the six original cabinets was still hanging on the wall but only by one screw. As he watched, the screw eased out of the wall and this cabinet too fell to the floor. The contents of all six cabinets were scattered over the floor, the bed and the small desk. (It was a very small room.) Ianto glanced back at Jack who was now looking at him, his expression furious.

"Ianto!" shouted Jack and shot off the bed and onto the ladder.

The Welshman got to his feet, grabbed the Circlet and beat a hasty retreat. He was standing by Toshiko's desk, not hiding behind her, no, it just so happened that the woman was between him and his rampaging boss. He edged towards the steps as Jack walked slowly and purposefully towards him, murder in his eyes and dust in his hair and on his clothes.

"Jack, it wasn't my fault." Ianto had climbed down two steps and Jack kept on coming. "It wasn't, they were overloaded. You should have cleared them out." Jack was by Toshiko's side and Ianto on the lower level of the Hub.

"You wrecked my room," said Jack slowly and ominously as he continued to advance.

Ianto saw Jack was not going to relent so turned and ran.

He made for the safety of the archives where he knew every tunnel, nook and cranny. He could hide down there until Jack got tired of chasing him. Behind him, he could hear Jack's footsteps gaining on him. He ran through the main archive and into tunnel B4 which had a large niche half way along which was badly lit. In a moment he was in it and pressed himself against the wall in the deepest shadow. His heart was beating wildly but, he realised suddenly, not from fear. Jack would not harm him. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he thought it would be quite pleasant to be caught. His mobile rang at just that moment and Ianto let it ring, content for Jack to follow the sound.

Above them, the other three members of the Torchwood team looked at one another. "Any idea what that was about?" asked Gwen. She was stood at the door to the office watching the dust coming out of the hatch to Jack's quarters. It resembled a mushroom cloud following the detonation of a nuclear bomb.

"Nope and I don't want to know." Owen disappeared back into the Medical Bay.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," said Toshiko, smiling over at Gwen. "They usually are when they get back from a trip to the archives."

"You're right." Gwen took a last look at the now settling dust and went back to her desk.

Half an hour later, Jack and Ianto emerged from the archway into the main level of the Hub and walked up to the work area. They were smiling like cats that had got the cream. Toshiko smiled a secret smile when she noticed Ianto's waistcoat was buttoned up incorrectly. She caught his eye, lowered them to his chest then raised them again. He got the message and quickly re-buttoned the garment correctly.

"Ianto, you have some cleaning to do," said Jack, pointing to the hatch around which was a layer of dust, "down there."

"Yes, sir." Ianto smiled as he went off to get his small broom and a Dustbuster, the big vacuum cleaner wouldn't get through the hatch. It was worth an hour cleaning up the mess he'd made to get a good look at the artefacts Jack had stashed away and move them to the archives.

"And don't think you can take any of the artefacts. I know exactly what's in there." Jack smirked at Ianto's crestfallen expression and took his seat behind his desk. "I'll be down to check on progress soon so get cracking." He hoped the inspection visit would end as satisfyingly as the recent trip to the archives.

* * *

_As I said at the start, just a little drabble. Hope you enjoyed it._


	27. Owen's List

_Owen talks to Jack about a list he's compiling. Set shortly after Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang._

* * *

**Owen's List**

The hotel room was large and comfortable and Owen Harper was lying on the bed trying to ignore the fact that he was being manhandled by their returned leader, Jack Harkness. If he took his mind to another place, reasoned Owen, then he could ignore what was happening to his body. Staring at the ceiling, he thought back over the past twenty four hours and marvelled again at how complicated things became when Jack was around. The team had managed fine without him – after a few hiccups – and Cardiff had been getting along okay in their care. Then - bam! - they were up to their ears in psychotic time travellers and cluster bombs before having the joy of living through the entire day again avoiding their other selves.

"You're a bloody walking disaster area," he said to Jack, "you know that?"

"What's your point?"

"Past three months, worst thing that I had to deal with was Ianto getting a splinter. You come back and within hours I'm shot and Gwen's poisoned."

"I told Gwen not to let him kiss her. Not my fault if she plays tonsil hockey among the containers." Jack probed the wound in Owen's side and pulled out another thread of fabric. "I think that's it. I'll just clean it up."

"Let me see." Owen twisted awkwardly, holding a hand mirror to look at the gunshot wound. "Okay, carry on." He settled back on the bed, left arm resting on the pillow above his head and chuckled. "It was fun seeing that Captain John's face when you walked into the Hub. Looked like he'd seen a ghost!"

Jack was soaking some cotton wool in antiseptic and grinned. "Kinda liked that myself," he admitted. He used the cotton wool on the wound and Owen hissed in air between his teeth – it stung. "Sorry."

"S'all right. Needs to sting," said Owen through gritted teeth. He sighed with relief when the pad was removed. "He chucked you off a roof, that right?"

"Uh huh. You're going to have to sit up so I can bandage this." Jack stepped back and watched as Owen moved his legs gingerly over and levered himself upright. "On the edge of the bed," he continued, kneeling between Owen's legs.

"Oh, 'scuse me, boys," said Gwen, coming into the bedroom. It was one of three in the suite they had booked. They also had two other rooms on the same floor. "Didn't know you two wanted to be alone." She came up beside them, grinning.

"Very funny," snarled Owen. "You want something?"

"Just to let you know the food's arrived. Ianto's setting it up next door." She stood and watched as Jack secured a gauze pad to the wound and then expertly began wrapping a bandage around Owen's abdomen.

"We'll be five minutes," said Jack, looking up and smiling at her.

"Okay." She smiled again and walked out of the room.

"So you survived the impact then?" asked Owen, resting his hands on Jack's shoulders to give the older man more room for his first aid.

Jack gave him an old-fashioned look. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah. It's just I started a list, after you went away. We know you survive gunshots -"

"You proved that."

"I know! No need to rub it in. Anyway, thought I ought to start a list of things we know you'll survive and how long it takes you to recover."

"Why? Put your finger here." Jack had finished with the bandaging and with Owen holding the end in place, Jack cut some tape and secured it

"Medical necessity. Might be some deaths I have to help with."

"I don't need any more of your kind of help." Jack sat back on his heels and smiled up at the doctor, taking the sting out of his words.

"You know what I mean." Cautiously, Owen stood up and reached to pull up his jeans and fasten them. "I mean, gunshot and you were up again in minutes. Took three days after Abaddon. Point is, we could have stuck you in the morgue and frozen you. Lucky we didn't. My list would give us an idea what to expect."

"We've managed so far without a list," pointed out Jack. He looked over as Ianto entered the room and smiled at the young man.

"Thought you might need a hand tidying up," said Ianto, picking up some abandoned gauze and a piece of tape.

Owen ignored him. "So, what about knife wounds, okay with those?" he asked Jack.

"You really want to know, Owen?" asked Jack forcefully. "Okay. I can survive anything. I've been shot, stabbed, electrocuted, starved, drowned and poisoned. I've fought in two world wars and been shot down and blown up. I've fallen off buildings and off a cliff. Was even trampled by horses once. Plane crashes, train crashes and car crashes don't stop me either."

Ianto stood looking at him, his face aghast, the stray bits of bandage and gauze forgotten in his hands. Unaffected by the litany of disasters, Owen had reached for a pad of paper on the bedside table by the phone and was jotting down some notes.

"What about dismemberment? If I chopped your arm off would it grow back?"

"Eventually." Jack was looking at Ianto who had resumed tidying up.

"Exhaustion? Dehydration?"

"Done it. Even died of boredom. That was in Oslo, God the winter's are long there! Now, do you think we could eat?" He gestured to the open door and the table holding plates of food that could be seen in the room beyond.

"How long did it take to recover from all those?" persisted Owen. He had one arm in his shirt and was reaching for the other, grimacing with the pain of the movement.

Ianto took pity on him and moved behind to help put the sleeve in the correct place for the questing arm. Over Owen's shoulder, his gaze met Jack's eyes and he smiled slightly. It was not pleasant to hear all these ways Jack could die but there was some logic in knowing more about it. That way they wouldn't make mistakes.

Jack sighed deeply. "All right, Owen, you win. When we get back to base tomorrow, I will sit down with you and we'll make up your list. Okay?"

"Yeah, thanks. It really will help." Owen sauntered off to the living room next door whistling tunelessly.

Ianto finished clearing up and moved close to Jack who was standing still, staring out of the window. "Food will be getting cold."

"Umm." Jack still didn't move. Listing the many and varied he could and had died had brought back his experiences at the hands of The Master over the past year that never was. He needed a moment to regain his composure.

"Owen does have a point. We ought to be aware, for your safety and our peace of mind." He smiled when Jack turned, reassured to have the immortal man back with the team. Back with him.

"Agreed. It's just the glee in his voice, like he's enjoying it."

"That's Owen for you. Loves other people's misery. You should have heard him when I had a splinter."

Jack's sudden laughter echoed round the room. "Poor Ianto. Which finger was it?"

Ianto flushed slightly and looked away. "It wasn't a finger," he said slowly and in some embarrassment.

"No?" Jack was smiling widely, his imagination working overtime.

"No. Somewhere … else. Come on, let's eat."

"Where, Ianto? You are so going to tell me." The banter continued as the two men walked from the room and joined the rest of the team.

* * *

_So where do you think the splinter was?!_


	28. Petty Cash

_A short tale set at the time of Random Shoes_

* * *

**Petty Cash**

Ianto Jones discovered that there were many differences between working for Torchwoods One and Three. Most of them he welcomed. He had always been uncomfortable with Yvonne Hartman's management style; she was too 'touchy-feely' for the reserved and private Welshman. He still cringed when he remembered the bonding exercises in which he had been forced to participate during his two years working in London, talk about embarrassing! He had also found the hierarchy of supervisors and three (or was it four?) management layers confusing and top heavy. The managers justified their jobs by sending conflicting orders down the line to the lowly workers who just got confused. On the other hand, none of his many London managers had flirted with him and made innuendoes about his suits morning, noon and night as Jack Harkness did as soon as Ianto started working in Cardiff. Nor had London expected him to turn his hand to everything from gunsmith to cleaner to prison warder to nurse to caterer, oh yes, and archivist at a drop of a hat as he was routinely required to do in one morning at Cardiff.

On balance though, he had no difficulty in deciding he preferred Cardiff. Settling into the free and easy ways of working had not been without its difficulties and the loss of Suzie Costello in such a spectacular way and the subsequent arrival of Gwen Cooper had changed the team dynamics drastically just when he was getting used to them. Of course, those dynamics had changed again after his own secret had come out. But that was some months ago now and after the terrifying shared experienced in the Brecon Beacons he felt more a part of the team than he ever had before. And he and Jack were working especially well together, Ianto thought, a small smile on his face as he walked out of the lift, pizza boxes in hand. As he entered the Hub through the open cog door, he heard Owen's loud voice. Something had upset the doctor – again!

"Well how was I to know!? I've always used it."

"For how long, Owen?" demanded Jack. He was standing with his hands on his hips in his office doorway staring at Owen who was at Jack's desk.

"Long as I've been here. Suzie told me it was petty cash."

"Suzie? How convenient. Pity I didn't catch you last week, we could have checked with her!" They had only just managed to kill Suzie, a second death for the woman, the week before.

"She did!"

"What's going on?" asked Ianto softly as he passed Toshiko. He put the pizza boxes on the coffee table.

"Jack found Owen at his desk, taking money from the tin." Toshiko was on her feet and moving towards Jack.

"The petty cash tin?" said Ianto, his voice loud in a temporary lull in the argument.

"See!? Tea-boy thinks the same," declared Owen, gesticulating at Ianto, a triumphant grin on his face.

Jack whirled round and glared at Ianto who raised both eyebrows, a significant reaction for him. "Have you been taking money out of that?" he demanded of the Welshman, pointing at the tin on the desk.

"Sometimes, for expenses. But I -"

"There, I told you. We've all been doing the same," interrupted Owen, moving to stand behind Jack. "It's the petty cash tin."

"Tosh?" Jack looked to her, his anger cooling.

"Suzie told me that's what it was. Why? What's the problem?" She hated it when everyone shouted and was pleased Gwen was not here to add to the chaos. She was still chasing up the death of their stalker, Eugene Jones.

"That box is my personal, I stress personal, money. I don't like carrying a lot of cash so keep it in there, in a drawer of my personal desk in my personal office. And now I find that you've all been helping yourselves. I've been subsidising you all!"

Ianto cleared his throat. "As I was told it was petty cash, I've been topping it up every week. From the Torchwood account. I think you're the one being subsidised."

Jack stared at him and Owen spluttered into laughter. Toshiko bit her lip, then smiled and finally laughed. Ianto joined in and then Jack did too. They were still laughing when Gwen entered, frustrated after her chat to Eugene Jones' work colleagues, and looked at them in wonder.

"What's the joke?" she asked, going to the pizza boxes. "I could do with a laugh."

Lunch was a cheerful meal. The Rift was quiet and they were spending their time catching up on reports and analyses, mundane and tedious stuff for the most part. Only Gwen's self-appointed project took her out of the Hub. As they ate, Owen tried to tot up the money that had gone in and out of the battered tin but gave up once Jack said he'd lock him in the cells if he carried on. Privately Ianto thought their boss was much better off than he should be but it was only Government money and Jack did far more than should really be expected of him as leader of Torchwood. What was a little petty cash in the balance of things? He cleared away the pizza boxes and then made some coffee for Toshiko and Jack, the others being out of the Hub: Gwen on her project and Owen taking a rare afternoon off.

"Ianto, got a minute?" Jack asked as the coffee was placed on the desk.

"Sure." Ianto sat down and crossed his legs.

"About this petty cash mix up. Maybe we ought to start one, a proper one." Jack picked up the coffee and sipped it. "Seems you all use it enough to justify having one."

"We all spend small amounts on work stuff. Why not just carry on as we have been doing?" He smiled, "But I'll make sure the cash comes solely from the Torchwood account."

"How much have you put in each week?"

"I just topped it up, made sure there was fifty pounds, give or take."

Jack drank some coffee and thought about this. Looking back, he realised he hadn't transferred any money from his account to the box for some time, there had always been money there. He had just taken what he wanted. It had worked well, no trips to the ATM when he had to remember his blessed PIN. He'd miss the money always being there. "Okay, can I leave you to set that up? Just keep it somewhere out there," he pointed to the work area, "and tell everyone where it is."

"No problem. I'll get a small money box when I go shopping. That all?"

"No," replied Jack after a moment's hesitation. "It's been handy, having my box filled up regularly. I know it's personal and not strictly work but I wondered, well, would you carry on?" He saw the raised eyebrow. "No, you're right, I shouldn't have asked. You have enough to do already. Forget I said anything." He smiled brightly to cover the awkward moment.

"Hold on, Jack. You want me to carry on filling your box with Torchwood money?"

"No! With my money. You can have my card, get money from the hole in the wall thing and stick it in the tin."

Ianto laughed, "Oh, sorry, I misunderstood. I don't mind doing that for you. If you're sure you want to give me your card."

Jack leant forward and lowered his voice. "Compared with what else I'm giving you, that's nothing."

Ianto felt himself blushing but a little of Jack's self confidence had rubbed off on him and he did not look away. Sex with Jack was … extraordinary. The man was sensitive and Ianto had never felt so secure in what was, after all, potentially a hugely embarrassing situation. He'd have run a mile if anyone else had suggested sex here in the office, over the very desk they were sitting at but with Jack anything goes. Feeling rather warm at the memory, Ianto concentrated on Jack's finances.

"Which bank do you use?" he asked, pleased his voice sounded level and controlled.

Jack was smiling, well aware of the young man's thoughts. Ianto was so easy to read now Jack understood him better, had found the sensual and uninhibited lover inside the formal but oh so sexy suits. Their few nights together had revitalised Jack's somewhat jaded sex life on this repressed planet and he looked forward to introducing the Welshman to yet more delights in the weeks to come. Not that he would force anything, that had never been his way, just bring in some innovations that this 21st century man would enjoy.

"Jack? Bank?" Ianto reminded his boss who was lost in a dream world with a silly smile on his face.

"Martins," replied Jack, sitting back and concentrating on the conversation once more.

"Where? Never heard of that one."

"Oh, sorry, it's … oh, Barclays that's it. They will keep changing the name. I'll get you the card." He stood up and moved round the desk. "It's downstairs. Why don't you come down and I'll give you the number that goes with it." He paused then added, "And maybe I could … give you something else too."

Ianto hastily looked over his shoulder and was relieved to see Toshiko still at her desk, far enough away not to have overheard. "I don't think so, sir." He added emphasis on the 'sir'.

"Why not?" Jack was standing close now, his hand brushing Ianto's arm.

"Because we are not alone. Sir." Ianto smiled to soften his words and left the office. He had discovered that Jack liked him to play hard to get and the cat and mouse sparring was an aspect of their lovemaking that could be played out around the other members of the team which added yet more spice to the game. Of course, it was hard to say 'no' to the captain but it had its rewards.

Humming softly to himself, Ianto went about his normal tasks for the rest of the afternoon. Clearing the Hub did not take long and he was in the archives when Jack came upon him. Ianto heard the man approach but did not turn round, letting Jack have his little surprise. Soft breath on the back of Ianto's neck and the delicious scent of his lover – how Ianto liked calling him that – made him smile and lean back just as a pair of arms snaked round to embrace him. A gentle kiss on his neck followed by nuzzling felt very good.

"What are you doing down here?" asked Jack, resting his chin on the other man's shoulder. "I missed you."

"I'm working, Jack. Like you should be."

"Nothing to do."

"What about the files I put on your desk? And the artefacts you are supposed to be helping catalogue? And the -"

"All right, all right. Nothing I want to do." Jack released Ianto and walked round to perch on the desk and look down at his new lover. "I want to do you."

"Not while we're working."

"I just told you, I'm not working. And as your boss, I order you to stop working too." He put a hand over one of Ianto's and pulled it towards his mouth where he gently sucked on the index finger, all the while staring into Ianto's eyes.

Ianto gulped, Jack could be so sensual when doing to simplest thing. "I don't think you should be doing that," he said eventually. "You don't know where it's been."

"I know where I'd like it to be."

Ianto pulled the hand away with a jerk. If this went on any longer, he would not be able to resist and he was determined not to be drawn down that path. Sex with Jack had to kept for out of office hours or he would never get any work done. "Did you come down here for a reason?" he asked, pleased his voice was steady.

"Yes, but it seems that's not going to happen." Jack smiled, not disappointed at being thwarted. In fact, he admired the man for fending him off. It boded well for later. Jack stood up and fished out his debit card, holding it out. "The card, as promised. The number is 1941."

Taking the card, Ianto replied, "That's an easy number to guess, sir. You should make it more difficult."

"But then I wouldn't be able to remember it." Jack shrugged then bent down to whisper in Ianto's ear. "I'll send Tosh home. Go find your new stopwatch and be in my office in ten." With that he sauntered out of the room.

Ianto sat looking after him, a silly smile on his lips. Belatedly, he remembered the stopwatch and pulled it from his pocket where it always resided nowadays. He pressed the button on top and listened to the quiet ticking. Then, after putting Jack's bank card in his wallet, he got up and made for the upper levels. If he didn't rush, he'd get there just on time.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed that bit of fluff.


	29. Not So Petty Cash

_This is set a few days after Petty Cash._

* * *

**Not So Petty Cash**

"Do you need anything while I'm out?" asked Ianto standing by the sofa in the work area checking his list. He was talking to Toshiko who was at her desk but it was Owen who answered, shouting up from the Medical Bay.

"How about some decent biscuits?" he demanded. "I hate custard creams!"

"I assume you want chocolate ones."

"Damn right I do. Chocolate digestives. Or those wafer ones. Or Penguins. Or Kit-Kats. Or -"

"I get the idea," interrupted Ianto. "I'll see what I can do. Tosh, anything for you?"

"Would you have time to pop into Boots? I need a nail file." She held up a finger and showed him the broken nail. "I'd go myself but I'm tracking the Rift opening for Jack."

"One nail file. I think I can do that." He smiled at her, she never presumed on his good nature.

Jack wandered down from the Boardroom where he had been taking a conference call with UNIT and John Frobisher at the Home Office. The Christmas holidays may be looming but the work of countering alien threats continued regardless. He spotted Ianto putting on his outside coat and smiled, the man looked so good. "Going out?" he asked as he climbed the steps beside Toshiko's desk.

"Yeah, supermarket run. Need anything?" asked Ianto. "I'll pick up lunch there."

Jack stood for a moment then grinned. "I'll come with you, help with all the bags," he said before making for his office.

Ianto looked after him with his mouth open. He had never been shopping with Jack and could not imagine him in Tesco's, where there would be a scrum of people buying for the Christmas holidays. Jack in the middle of that was a mind-blowing thought. "I don't think that's such a good idea, sir. It'll be very busy."

"Then you definitely need my help." Jack had donned his greatcoat and was reaching for the Webley before he stopped himself; he did not need a gun to go shopping. Patting his pockets he located his mobile then checked his wallet: not much in there. Reaching to another of the desk drawers, he pulled open the battered tin in which he kept some cash and took out two twenty pound notes. "This needs filling up," he shouted to Ianto, waving the tin about.

"Okay, I'll go to the bank." Ianto tried one last time. "I think Tosh could do with a hand with the Rift predictor, perhaps you'd better stay here."

Jack, standing in the office doorway, looked from Ianto to a startled Toshiko. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't want me going with you." He managed to get the tiniest bit of hurt in his voice.

"You'd be right, sir. You've always told me you hate supermarkets. It'll be crowded," he pointed out, "everyone's out buying presents and treats." Ianto winced as he heard the words, now Jack would definitely want to come.

"Did you say treats?!" He bounded forward, a grin on his face. "Lead me to them!"

"Make sure he gets some decent chocolate biscuits, Jack," put in Owen, walking to his desk. "And there's not much beer in the fridge."

"That's on the list," commented Ianto, now resigned to Jack's company. It was not that he minded being with Jack, he would like it, it was just that Ianto did his shopping methodically and he knew Jack would disrupt him.

"We have a list? Let's see." Jack held out his hand and reluctantly Ianto passed it over. Jack ran his eye down the items listed. "Not bad, not bad," he muttered, "but there are a few things missing."

"Like what?"

"Eggnog, gotta have eggnog at Christmas. And crackers. And mistletoe." He smirked loving the blush that spread over Ianto's cheeks. "You need my help, Ianto." With that he pocketed the list, turned Ianto round and pushed him towards the stairs. "See you later, kids."

Strolling from the Tourist Office the two men did not speak. They were rarely out of the base together except when Ianto was doing clean up at a scene. It felt strange, more so as they were now sleeping together most nights after the rest of the team had gone home – and sometimes when they were still around. Ianto felt hot as he remembered the thrill of having sex in the archives while Toshiko was working on the floor above. If she had looked at the CCTV … He had to think of something else.

"We'll take my car," said Ianto, breaking the silence that had gone on a bit too long. "Go to the bank first and one or two other places then we'll hit Tesco."

"Whatever you say. Do you think I should buy presents for everyone?" asked Jack, his face creased in thought. Gwen had asked about Torchwood practices concerning Christmas presents and been disappointed to learn that as a rule they did not give them. "Do regular bosses give presents?"

"There was a big party at Torchwood One, paid for by management." They had reached the car and Ianto unlocked it, getting behind the wheel as Jack got in beside him. "No presents." He started the engine and eased out of the parking space.

"So I should give a party?" Jack looked at him eagerly before his face fell. "Nah, wouldn't work with five of us. Though a party for two sounds like fun .." He leered at Ianto and saw him blush again.

"You don't need to do anything, sir, we don't expect it." He was negotiating the traffic lights and had to brake suddenly when the car in front stalled. "Damn."

"Might be nice though." Jack lapsed into silence. He had experienced many Christmases on this planet, most of them lonely but a few had been shared with people he loved. He thought of Estelle, lost to him so recently, and of Alice and Steven. There had been some good Christmases with all three of them. He sighed, he would be on his own again this year now Alice was divorced and had moved away.

Ianto drove on and the two men did not speak until they were in the car park. "Before we go any further, sir, can I have my list back?" He held out his hand and stared at Jack.

"Okay." He took out the crumpled piece of paper and held it up. "IF," he stressed, "you call me 'Jack'."

There was a pause before Ianto replied. "All right … Jack." He took the list and smoothed out the creases.

The city centre was always busy but a week before Christmas it was heaving even in the middle of a weekday morning. People were bustling about with large carrier bags and harassed frowns as they sought out presents for their nearest and dearest. The streets were decorated with banners that lit up at night and each street light was adorned with a festive decoration. Jack strode through the shoppers, a big smile on his face and oblivious to the curious stares he received. Ianto, who was dodging in and out of people's way, could not understand how the crowd parted for his boss and not for him. Did Jack have a personal force field? Ianto would not put it past him.

"Jack, in here," he called, touching the other man's arm. He led the way into Boots. Ianto found the nail file, a pack of five, for Toshiko and stopped to look at a display of perfumes. He usually gave his sister and her family money but he wondered if something more thoughtful would be appropriate this year. He moved away from the display: they would prefer the money and he could post that rather than go round and get caught up in whatever scams Johnny, his brother-in-law, was dreaming up.

Jack stood to one side near the door and watched the younger man. He wondered about him more and more, now he was seeing him as a person and not just as a super-efficient colleague. Who was he? What made him tick? What was his favourite food or music or film? There was a lot to be discovered and Jack surprised himself by wanting to find out. Maybe there would be time. He smiled as Ianto rejoined him after paying for his purchase.

"Where next?"

"The bank."

They walked further down the busy street to Barclays Bank. The two ATMs outside had long queues and Ianto spotted that the one inside the building was less busy. He led the way in, Jack looking round him with interest. He had not been in a bank for years, had even arranged the debit card through an intermediary, and was amazed at the bullet-proof screens and glass and chrome finishes. Where had the imposing wooden counters and the sense of deferential service gone? He stood with Ianto beside the ATM and watched the young women tellers – it had always been men before - who barely glanced up at the customers as they passed forms and money beneath the heavy screens.

"This is weird," said Ianto, staring at the machine.

"What's up?"

"I don't know. It just gobbled up the card." He looked at Jack. "You have got money in there, haven't you?" Ianto had used Jack's debit card a few times and while he had been tempted he had not peeked at the balance.

"Yeah. Well, there was last time I checked."

"Which was when?"

"A while ago." Jack could not admit to this young man that the last time he had taken any interest in the account was before he – Ianto – had been born. "Maybe we should ask someone?" He looked around and saw a customer services desk which, surprisingly, was manned and not besieged by customers. "Excuse me," he said giving the young man a winning smile, "this machine just ate my card."

"I am very sorry, sir. Let me have some details and I'll see what's happened." Jack gave him the details and then sat down with Ianto as the young man went through a conspicuously locked door to talk to someone.

Ianto looked at his watch. "We really don't have time for this," he said. "Do you think Tosh and Owen are all right?" Gwen was taking a day off, still recovering from her brush with death when she had almost been run down only to be saved by the already dead Eugene Jones.

"They'd have called if there was a problem." A couple of minutes later the young man returned with an older woman who seemed to be someone of importance.

"Good morning. I'm Rachel Traynor, branch manager. I understand one of you gentlemen is the holder of account," she reeled off a string of numbers.

"That's me." Jack was standing and stuck out a hand, "Captain Jack Harkness. And this is my colleague, Ianto Jones. Is there a problem with the account?"

"No," she said, drawing out the word, "but I wonder if you could come to my office." She smiled and gestured back the way she had come.

"Of course." The two men followed her and were soon behind the locked door in a large functional office. They sat in two chairs facing the desk while the woman sat behind it. On the desk was a large and dusty box file.

"Before we go any further, I do need to verify you are the account holder." She opened the box file. "I have to say, Captain Harkness, that this is the only account I have ever come across in thirty years of banking that has password access. If you would print the password on here." She passed him a small piece of card and Jack wrote quickly before handing it back. The manager checked the password. "Thank you."

"Now that's out of the way, perhaps you could explain why the machine ate my card. My colleague seems to think it's because there are insufficient funds." He smiled and she laughed.

"Oh good gracious no! A mechanical fault, I'm afraid, but a fortuitous one for me. Yours is our oldest operational account and yet we have no details on file about how to contact you. It is our wish to offer our customers the best possible banking service, including advice on a wide range of investment and pension opportunities. As we cannot contact you we have been unable to let you know of these opportunities which, given the current balance, would have been to your advantage." She looked forlorn at the opportunities Jack had missed. "At the very least I would suggest that some of the funds are transferred to an account giving a higher rate of interest."

"Really? How much is in there?" asked Jack genuinely curious.

For the first time in Rachel Traynor's career she was flummoxed. "You don't know?" she stammered.

"No idea. Last time I asked it was a few thousand."

"Ah … well … ah, it's a little more than that now. I suppose you wouldn't know as we haven't been able to send you any statements." She reached into the box file again and took out a three page A4 statement. "This is the current balance." She passed the papers across the desk and Jack took it.

There was a moment's silence as Jack studied the statement. "Bit more than I thought," he said finally, resting the statement on his knee.

Ianto could not help himself. He was embarrassed to be in the room when Jack was discussing his personal finances – he certainly wouldn't have wanted Jack with him if the tables were turned - but Jack and the manager knew he was there and could have asked him leave. He glanced across at the statement and his mouth fell open. He was so shocked he did not hear the continuing discussion or see Ms Traynor get up and leave the room: to give her elusive customer some time to consider his position and in search of leaflets and pamphlets detailing the bank's services. Ianto came back to his senses when he felt Jack's gaze upon him.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, embarrassed to have been found spying.

"I don't understand money," said Jack conversationally, not at all bothered that Ianto had seen the figure. "Can you make sense of this?" He handed the statement across. "I swear last time I checked it was around twenty thousand pounds."

Looking again at the current balance Ianto confirmed it was much more than that now. "You currently have four point three million pounds, Jack." He ran his eyes up the statement. "Your salary is paid in every month and there are," he totted them up, "three direct debits - to Interflora, the Royal British Legion and an A. Carter - and a few cash withdrawals." He turned the page. "Basically, you earn more than you spend." With no payments for a home, utilities or food Jack had spent very little on himself for years. Even his clothes were paid for by Torchwood as they were usually ruined in the line of duty.

"They've got it right then?"

"Looks like it." Ianto glanced up at the top of the statement. "Why is the account called TW1?" He had wondered this when looking at the debit card.

Jack thought fast. He could hardly tell Ianto, who did not know he – Jack – could not die, that it was the only way to set up an account for someone who would live for a very, very long time. He had come into this building back in 1912 - when the stash of cash had grown too large to leave lying around his lodgings - and hammered out the details with the manager of the day, a venerable old gentlemen called Frazer, and since then Torchwood had paid his fees into the account. Old Frazer would have been very surprised that the original deposit of two hundred pounds, a goodly sum back then, had grown to its current value.

"It's a special account, for the leader of Torchwood Three," Jack said, making it up on the spot. "That's why there's a password, it's handed on from one leader to another."

"Oh. Jack, there's no tax been paid on the interest." Ianto had been studying the statement.

"Good! Don't want those vultures getting their hands on it."

"But everyone has to pay tax, especially when they've got so much money." Ianto was not a covetous man but he would dearly love to see a balance like this in this bank account.

"You're forgetting, I don't exist. The taxman doesn't know about me." Jack grinned. He liked being a non-person. "It's like the SUV. We don't get speeding tickets because the vehicle doesn't exist."

"I suppose."

"Now, what do you think I should do? Leave it where it is or do what the lady says and 'invest' it?"

"Oh no, I'm not going to advise you." He handed back the statement, shaking his head. "I'm not an expert on finance and you need one. But I don't think you should do anything in a hurry, listen to what she has to say but don't make any decisions." Ianto was still trying to take in the amount of money in the account; it was an enormous sum and yet Jack didn't seem at all bothered by it.

Ms Traynor returned at this point and showered Jack with leaflets and pressed him to make an appointment to speak with an adviser. Taking Ianto's advice, which accorded with his own thinking, Jack thanked her but said he wanted to consider further before committing himself to anything. He gave the Tourist Office as his contact address but that was as much information as he was prepared to give. With the cash they had come in for and the retrieved debit card, the two men were escorted to the door by the manager herself who was already planning to follow up the contact with a veritable avalanche of mail shots.

"Phew, thank goodness we're out of there," said Jack, stuffing leaflets into the pockets of his greatcoat. "Where now?"

"I want to go to Waterstones," he pointed to the bookshop opposite, "then we can get to Tesco." He was grateful for a mundane task to take his mind of what he had just learnt. Not only was Jack his boss, he was a millionaire. It made Ianto feel like the plaything of a rich man and that was acutely uncomfortable.

The smell of newly printed books assailed them as they entered the large shop. Ianto went to the counter at the back, situated next to the biographies, to collect a book he had ordered. Jack followed along behind, stopping once or twice to pick up a book on display. He rarely bothered with new books, picking up the odd used paperback in a charity shop or on a market stall or re-reading old favourites which were stuffed into a cupboard in his quarters at the Hub. He stared at the rows and rows of biographies and spotted _Testament of Youth_ by Vera Brittain. He flicked through the pages while Ianto waited to be served.

"I'm done," said Ianto. He had his book, the history of a local rugby club, in a bag.

"You like books?" asked Jack, deciding to buy _Testament_. It brought back memories of a time he remembered well and which was long gone. It would be interesting to see if the author's experiences of the First World War were the same as his.

A smile spread across Ianto's face, one of the few really genuine smiles that Jack had seen. "I adore them," Ianto said simply. Jack paid for his book and they walked back to the car before travelling the short distance to Tesco. There remained a slight distance between them as Ianto grappled with his new knowledge of Jack which the other man noticed.

At the supermarket Jack put a hand on Ianto's arm to stop him getting out of the car. "Is something wrong?" He was getting attuned to the younger man's moods and was sure there was.

"No." Ianto bit off the word and resolutely looked out of the windscreen. His hands still gripped the steering wheel.

"Oh come on, you expect me to believe that!?" Jack moved his hand to rub Ianto's cheek. "What's the problem?"

There was a moment's silence, then Ianto said, "You're a millionaire, Jack."

"And?"

Ianto let go of the wheel and turned to face the other man. "It's … it's a lot to take in."

Jack was confused. "Why? It's just money. I'm still me, you're still you. Nothing's changed."

"It makes me feel … uncomfortable," Ianto owned.

"Oh. I could give you some, make you a millionaire too. Would that be better?"

"No! You can't just give it away like that."

"I don't see why not, it's mine. I'll give it to a charity if you won't have it." Money really did mean nothing to Jack. On Boeshane they had lived by bartering and as a con man he made money only to survive from day to day. It was only here, on this little planet, that he had been in one place long enough for the money to accumulate. And he didn't know how much longer he would be here, The Doctor was overdue as it was. Seemed a pity to leave the money in the bank.

"You can't do that!"

"Why not? It's only sitting in the bank." Jack smiled at Ianto. "I'd rather have you than money."

The younger man blushed and looked away, loving to hear the outrageous compliment but unsure if it meant anything to Jack. Was he just saying it to get a reaction? He decided to ask. "Do you mean that?" he said quietly, looking back to watch Jack's face.

"Yes." At that moment Jack meant what he said. He did want Ianto. How long the feeling would last he had no idea, but for now he did not want to lose the young man from his life or his bed. He leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on Ianto's lips. "If you won't take the money, I suppose I'll just have to buy you a Christmas present instead."

"You can do that, but not an expensive one." Ianto smiled, Jack's attitude reassuring him. "Let's go shopping."

"Oh yeah. The sooner we get that over with, the sooner I can have you," Jack smirked.

Having cleared the air, and with Ianto feeling happier, the two men kissed once more then exited the car. The supermarket fascinated Jack. He had always avoided the places, thinking they were large and impersonal and liking the better service provided by small shops. Now he was amazed that all this bounty was his for the taking – literally. All he had to do was take the items from the shelves and put them in the trolley that Ianto was pushing. At first, he merely followed Ianto as he moved methodically up and down the aisles consulting his list but soon he was diving down aisles that Ianto missed - which seemed perverse because they were the ones with the best stuff – and coming back with items. Ianto was aware of what was going on and kept a close eye on what was going in the trolley. He said nothing, just looked at Jack and raised an eyebrow when the amount of sweet treats and chocolate biscuits mounted up.

"What?" shrugged Jack, not at all intimidated.

"I think that's enough of those, sir. Do you really want eggnog?" he asked in an attempt to divert his boss.

"Oh yeah."

Diversion successful, the two men went to the drinks section and Jack gleefully took four bottles off the shelf, adding some whisky too. Their last stop was at the selection of Christmas trees, holly wreaths and other greenery as well as tree lights and decorations. After some debate, Ianto was able to dissuade Jack from buying a tree – there was an artificial one in the Hub already - but gave in on the mistletoe and some tinsel and other decorations when told it was for use in Jack's quarters. The very vivid description of what Jack intended to do with the items sent another blush coursing over Ianto's face. Standing in the queue to pay for the trolley-load of goods bored Jack and he went off to the photo booth and took pictures of himself. Ianto looked away, hoping that no one was aware they were together; he dreaded to think what parts of his anatomy Jack was photographing. When he had paid for the goods, Ianto pushed the laden trolley towards the exit having spotted Jack heading that way earlier. Emerging from the doors, he spied him helping a statuesque blonde wearing less than she should to put her bags into the boot of a BMW.

"Do you always buy this much?" asked Jack, standing behind Ianto who was loading bags into the boot of his car.

"Uh huh. Though there are rather a lot of 'treats' this time." He looked pointedly at Jack then went back to his task. With the bags safely stowed away, the two men got into the car.

"Want to see my photos?"

Ianto was about to start the engine but stopped and looked over at the strip of four small photographs. In the top one, Jack had his tongue sticking out, in the next he was grinning idiotically, in the third he had his hands stuck in his ears but the bottom one was a simple, full face shot with Jack smiling slightly. "I like that," said Ianto, pointing to last one. "The camera likes you." He started the engine and backed out of the parking space.

"You think?" mused Jack to himself. He thought of the old photographs of himself in his tin in the desk back at the Hub, studio portraits that were stiff and formal. He preferred these and decided to add them to his collection. "I want one of you," he said impulsively, wanting to add Ianto to those special people whose images were included there.

"What for?" Ianto thought it was an odd request.

"To keep. In fact, we ought to do a new team photo too. We haven't got one with Gwen." He put the photos away in a pocket among the bank leaflets and shifted sideways to look at Ianto. "Let's do it soon."

"Okay."

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The shopping was unloaded and packed away, lunch of sandwiches and wraps eaten – with a selection of chocolate biscuits – and the team went about their normal tasks. The Rift opening – a transcendental portal - was predicted for the following day and the Weevils were quiet still so Jack sent Owen and Toshiko home around five o'clock and went to find Ianto who was in the Tourist Office where he had been all afternoon. Jack had missed seeing him around the Hub and wondered why he had stayed out of the way.

"Hey, what are you doing up here?" asked Jack coming through the concealed door.

"Tidying up." Ianto had removed the contents of a shelf and was wiping it down with a wet cloth. As the afternoon had progressed, the events of the morning had preyed on his mind and he felt uncomfortable again. It had been okay when Jack was close by, but once apart the doubts had grown again.

"It was pretty tidy before," said Jack, sidling up behind the other man putting his arms round him. He kissed a patch of skin on his neck just about the collar of the suit jacket. "I have lots of decorations to put up downstairs. Come help me."

Tingling from the kiss, Ianto straightened. To hell with the money, he thought, to hell with the doubts. Anything could happen and probably would and he should grab the chance to be with Jack whilst he could. He took hold of Jack's braces and pulled him close for a long, probing kiss.

-ooOoo-

On Christmas morning, Ianto woke in the small bed in Jack's quarters. He had stayed the whole night as Jack had been shaken by John Ellis' suicide and needed the company. Looking around, Ianto smiled at the gaudy decorations hanging haphazardly from protruding nail heads and stuck up with Blu-tack. The mistletoe was attached to the light fitting in the centre of the ceiling and Ianto grew warm just seeing it there. He was alone in the bed and sat up, listening for sounds of Jack above him but it was quiet.

Swinging his legs out of the bed, he spotted a white envelope propped up against an empty bottle of eggnog, it had writing on it. He reached across and read: 'Weevil in Splott. Have the coffee ready for when I get back. Happy Christmas – present inside. Jack'.

Ianto twisted the envelope round in his hands. He had an awful feeling that Jack might have carried out his threat – was it a threat when the gesture was beneficial to the recipient? – to give him a million pounds. He sincerely hoped not. Since discovering about the money Ianto had decided that, as the account was for the leader of Torchwood, a lot of it would have been earned by Jack's predecessors and was not his to give away. It should be handed on to the next leader. However, curiosity had led Ianto to make one or two enquiries. He had learnt that the direct debit to Interflora was for flowers to be placed every month on the graves of four women buried in Wales over the past ninety years; he was still puzzling over what that meant. Ianto had been unable to trace the 'A. Carter', there were too many possibilities. At least the regular donation to the Royal British Legion was understandable, Jack was obsessed by the military.

Taking a deep breath, Ianto eased the envelope open and took out a card. Inside that he found book vouchers for … a hundred pounds. He smiled and sighed with relief at the same time. A thoughtful and welcome gift, generous but not too much so. Ianto could accept with a clear conscience and enjoy spending it. He was about to shower and dress when he heard name being called above – Jack was back. Time to get the coffee on.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed that._


	30. Picking up the Pieces

_My first story set after Children of Earth. PC Andy is patrolling the streets of Cardiff …_

* * *

**Picking Up the Pieces**

It was odd to be walking a beat around Cardiff's streets again. His feet hurt and he was sure he had a blister developing on his left heel. Andy Davidson thought he had left this behind months before when he had been on mobile patrol or manning the desk at the station. He had been thinking of sitting his sergeant's exams but there was no chance of that now. If there had been a rank lower than PC he would have been demoted to it, as it was he was lucky to still have a job. Not that he regretted what he had done. It had been the right thing to do, to protect those children. He would have done it whether Gwen had been there or not. He still couldn't get his head around the Government sending armed soldiers to round up little kids even after hearing Gwen's spooky-do explanations.

He turned a corner into Roald Dahl Plass and continued his walk, into the bomb site that was the Bay's chief tourist attraction. Personally, he was amazed anyone would want to visit Cardiff if they didn't have to, too many weird things happening down here. Nodding at the owner of the Thai restaurant, he circled the hole in the ground which was now cordoned off with ply board panels. A young lad of about nine sitting on the steps caught his attention and he detoured over to stand in front of him. It was unusual for a child his age to be out alone: after all the shenanigans two weeks ago parents were keeping their kids close.

"Hello, son. What's your name and what are you doing out here?"

The boy looked up, a freckled face which matched his reddish gold hair and colouring. "Terry Samson. I'm not doing anything." He did not seem afraid of the policeman looming over him.

"That right? What's that you've got?" Andy gestured to the boy's hands and the lump of metal the boy was rotating.

"I found it, it had been thrown away," said Terry defensively. He clutched the object tighter and attempted to hide it up his jumper.

"Don't be daft now. I'm not going to take it, just want to have a look." Andy sat down beside the boy, putting his cap on the step beside him. It was warm and he didn't think anyone would spot him and report him for being improperly dressed.

The boy regarded him solemnly for a moment then held out his hand. Andy looked at the lump of metal, molten on one side. "Where did you find it, then, Terry?"

"Over there." The boy pointed towards the water tower. "It's a treasure," he confided.

"Don't know about that," commented Andy. He took a small, slim instrument from his pocket and ran it lightly over the metal.

"What you doing!?" Terry looked alarmed and attempted to pull his hand away but Andy had a hand on his wrist preventing him.

"Just checking." The light changed from green to mauve. "Sorry, mate, I'm going to have to take it after all. It's dangerous, see, that's what this light means." Keeping hold of the boy's arm, he put the instrument away and took the object.

"That's not fair!" Terry protested, standing up and facing the policeman. "It's not fair, that's stealing, that is!"

"Not if I pay you for it, it's not. How does five quid sound?" Andy placed the object in his pocket carefully and reached for his wallet. "Can buy a lot better stuff with five quid, can't you?" The boy stuck out his hand and snatched the proffered note, running off to the café on the corner.

Andy sighed and replaced his cap before starting on his beat again.

There had been a lot of stuff found around the Plass and the surrounding area since the explosion, a lot of it more dangerous than this one. Gwen had asked him to keep an eye out for anything and given him the gizmo he had just used. Mauve was dodgy but okay to handle, purple was 'run for your life'. All the stuff had come out of the crater which had once been home to Torchwood. Strange to think he'd walked round here millions of times and never known it was there. Passing the Pierhead building to saw a green object balanced precariously on an 'art installation' Load of old tat in his opinion and a waste of money but the Assembly had wanted it. He looked at the object before trying the gizmo on it and was not surprised when the colour went a pale mauve. He pocketed this one too before continuing on.

That evening he presented himself at Gwen's flat. Rhys opened the door to him and ushered him in. "Come on in, Andy. Want a beer? Gwen, it's Andy," he called. This last seemed a bit superfluous as the flat was so small Gwen could already see him from where she stood in the kitchen.

"Andy, nice to see you. Do you want a drink?" she asked.

"Already offered him one, love. Beer all right or do you want wine?"

"Beer would be good, thanks." Andy couldn't help feeling uncomfortable around the pair of them. He'd had a thing for Gwen for years and seeing her in cosy domesticity with Rhys hurt.

"Sit down then," laughed Gwen, "and take your coat off for God's sake." Gwen had come round and held her hand out for the jacket.

"I came to give you these," said Andy, pulling out the two objects he had found. "Found them this morning. The thingy went mauve." He handed them over, glad to get rid of them.

Gwen scrutinised them. It was hard to say what they were as they were part melted and a lot scorched by the explosion, and she had never been very good with artefacts in the first place. It was at moments like this she really missed Toshiko. "Thanks. I'll keep them safe." She had rented a warehouse and office space and was using it as a temporary base until she saw Jack again and could persuade him to return. "I'll just put these in the other room." She had a secure container in the bedroom for such finds.

Rhys came across holding out a bottle of beer. "There you go. Sit down, man."

"Thanks."

The two men engaged in awkward conversation. They had a lot in common and in other circumstances could have been friends but Gwen would always be a barrier between them. It got better when she returned and joined Rhys on the couch with a glass of orange juice in her hand. She was thrilled to be pregnant but missed her glass of wine in the evening. Andy was persuaded to stay to supper and the three of them ate lasagne on their knees while watching _Total Wipeout_ and laughing their heads off as one contestant after another got stuck in the mud or tried and failed to get over the big red balls.

The two men had another beer each and the atmosphere became more relaxed. When the programme was over, they talked about events in Whitehall where the Prime Minister had resigned ignominiously over his handling of the 456 affair. Gwen got up to get another drink.

"God, I hate orange juice," she complained, putting the carton back in the fridge.

"Why are you drinking it then?" asked Andy. "Not like you. You used to put away plenty when you were on the force." He noticed her exasperated look. "What?"

"I told you, remember? I'm pregnant, can't drink when I'm pregnant." Gwen came back to the couch and sat down by Rhys, suddenly shy. They had told no one else their news, not even their parents – especially their parents! – waiting until she was a bit further along. It seemed strange to be talking about it now. She grinned at Rhys who was beaming proudly and put an arm round her shoulders.

"I know that, just didn't know about the drinking. Be a bit hard for you, seeing what you used to put away." Andy took another swig of his beer. He had tried to forget this further evidence of her commitment to Rhys which had put an end to any mad ideas he had that she might come to her senses and leave Rhys for him.

"Oy, I wasn't that bad! Linda was worse than me."

"Oh her! Well, what do you expect? She's from Abergavenny." They grinned, remembering nights in the pubs and clubs of Cardiff when life was simple.

"You're the only one we've told, Andy, so I hope you haven't told anyone else." She looked at him, hoping he'd heeded their earlier warnings.

"Jack knows," said Rhys, still rankled that the Torchwood leader had been told before him, the father.

"Yeah, well he's not around, is he? He can't open his big mouth and tell our friends and it get back to Mam and Dad! So, Andy, keep shtoom, okay?"

"Won't say a word. Like anyone would be interested anyway." He drank some more of the beer. "No sign of Mulder then?"

"No." Gwen chewed on her lip and looked into her glass.

She had seen him twice since he had defeated the 456. The first was the day after when he had shown up, explained what had happened in London and told her to take charge in Cardiff. She had tried to comfort him, for Ianto and for Steven, but he had shaken her off and left. Her assumption that he was clearing up in London had been proved wrong and he had disappeared until two days ago when she had caught a glimpse of him lurking in the cemetery at Ianto's funeral. He had gone before she could get to him.

"He'll show up," said Andy, trying to cheer her up.

"I hope so."

Andy stayed another half an hour then got up to leave, using his early start in the morning as an excuse. Gwen helped him on with his jacket and walked him to the door. She pulled it to behind her and, on the landing outside, she hugged him fiercely.

"Thanks, Andy, for being here. I've lost my two best friends and I feel so alone sometimes." She clung to him, tears running down her face.

He patted her back clumsily. "I'm not going anywhere. Cardiff born and bred, me. Where else would I go? Who else would have me!?" As he had hoped, she laughed through the tears. "Now, get back to that lump of lard Rhys. No wonder he's so fat if he eats like that every night."

She released him and wiped at her face. "You are such an arsehole sometimes. Get out of here." She smiled brightly and he impulsively bent and kissed her cheek.

"Look after yourself, Gwen." Going down the stairs, he faced the fact that all his dreams were dead and buried now. Gwen belonged to someone else and he had to move on. He could be her friend and nothing more.

The next day he found what looked to be a burnt piece of shoe leather with something like controls in it and picked it up to give to Gwen. She immediately recognised it as Jack's Vortex Manipulator and cried for a long time.

* * *

_Views always appreciated - Jay._


	31. Muddy Boots

_A quiet moment for the team as they shelter from the rain._

* * *

**Muddy Boots**

It had been raining for days. The constant, drenching sort of rain that saturates clothes, seeps into the gaps between collar and neck and drips down your back. It fell on already sodden ground and lay in growing pools. Gwen Cooper was crouched shivering in the stone hovel that was supposedly a cottage - or had been or would be, however you liked to look at it. This was not her sort of mission and she finally understood why Owen had so hated the countryside. She was miserable and would gladly have chucked it all in for a hot shower, a change of clothes and a soft chair to sit on. Hot food would have been nice too.

Ianto Jones appeared in the doorway, ducking to get through, the gloom behind him a mixture of rain and an early dusk. He was sodden from the hair plastered to his head to the mud-spattered suit trousers. His shoes squelched as he walked with the water that had seeped in at the seams. Under his arm he had wood, a mixture of small and large pieces, with which he was planning to light a fire. In the relatively dry 'cottage' he put down his burden and crouched beside Gwen before the hearth and started arranging the sticks in a square, methodically balancing one upon another. The water dripped from his face and clothes onto the already sodden sticks but he continued with his task impassively.

"You can't make a fire with wet wood," said Gwen, watching his careful movements. "Learnt that in the Guides."

Ianto looked at her, a small smile on his lips. "But the Guides weren't equipped with these." He reached into his jacket pocket and, with difficulty as his wet hand got caught on the wet cloth, pulled out an hexagonal shaped object which filled his palm. He held it over the pile of sticks and squeezed. A green light shot down into the sticks and in a few moments flames appeared.

"Come here, I want to kiss you," said Gwen.

"Hands off, he's mine," came from the doorway where a smiling Jack Harkness blocked the little light still remaining in the day. He looked as bedraggled as his colleagues despite the garish green and red golfing umbrella in his hand dripping water onto the floor.

"Don't care." Gwen planted a smacker on Ianto's grinning lips and held out her hands to the flames. "Did you find something to eat?"

Jack walked over and dropped a carrier bag into Gwen's waiting arms. "Sandwiches, water, some sausages, potatoes, chocolate bars, fruit and even a six-pack of beer." He took off his greatcoat and it was taken by Ianto who hung it from a handy nail in the roof beams alongside his own outer jacket.

"I am not going to ask how you got this because I really don't care." Gwen was rooting in the bag, setting out the provisions alongside her. She was salivating at the thought of baked potatoes and sausages but for now she was happy to tear open a pack of ham sandwiches and stuff half of one into her mouth. "Oh, this is so good."

Jack and Ianto settled on the floor around the fire, their clothes starting to gently steam as the fire took hold. Not only did the gizmo light fires, it also made them burn more strongly and give off more heat. Ianto took charge of the supplies and placed the potatoes to bake at the side of the fire before setting aside a couple of thin sticks for spearing the sausages with later. Then, finally, he took the remaining packs of sandwiches. "Tuna or egg?" he asked Jack.

"Egg." Jack took them and looked round at his team. "Now, isn't this cosy?"

"No, it's a bloody disaster! How the hell did you get us into this mess?" accused Gwen. She had finished the first half of her sandwich and took a swig from one of the small water bottles.

"It wasn't me," replied Jack, his mouth full. "It was the Dwaxen."

Like other citizens of Cardiff, the Torchwood team had been hearing rumours of someone living in the woods around St Fagans for a few weeks. A number of tourists walking round the 140 acre museum site and the historic buildings erected there had reported losing cameras and mobile phones and other shiny objects when close to the edges of the woods. One enterprising young man had snapped a dark blue flash of light or possibly movement on his camcorder which had had the police baffled. Then a member of staff had found a pig and a couple of sheep, kept as colour for the visitors' added enjoyment, dead with no visible signs of injury. The police welcomed the development as they were able to put the whole thing down to local youths having their own kind of fun. When an attendant in the Y Garreg Fawr Farmhouse, furthest from the main buildings, was found dead everyone took matters more seriously.

St Fagans was closed immediately and had remained so for two days as police investigators trawled the site for clues. They found nothing. Forensic teams were baffled that anyone could commit a murder and leave no trace. Pathologists were mystified when the postmortem found nothing to account for the attendant's death. The best they could come up was heart failure due to cause or causes unknown, privately they thought he had been scared to death. It was at this point that Detective Kathy Swanson had swallowed her pride and called on Torchwood. She had been given charge of the murder investigation and was getting nowhere very fast. Jack had seen something in the camcorder footage and Ianto had been able to analyse it and confirm from the database that it had all the hallmarks of a Dwaxen, an alien known to like bright shiny objects and who emitted a form of pholoradiation which interfered with human electrical impulses and could stop hearts. The three strong Torchwood team had been at St Fagans all day, sending the police and everyone else off site, and setting up bait to entice the Dwaxen out of the woods.

It had all been supposed to take a couple of hours but the weather and the conditions underfoot had been against them and the hours had rolled past. Jack had decided to stay on site overnight and that was why they were camping out in the old cottage, one of a number just erected. It was watertight but not yet fitted out with furniture and close to the Y Garreg Fawr farmhouse and the woods on the northern edge of the site. Jack had obtained the provisions by breaking into the on-site restaurant, abandoned for two days.

"When are they likely to appear?" asked Ianto, calmly eating his tuna sandwich. He was wet through and was anticipating a heavy cold or 'flu as result of his sojourn in the woods. But as there was nothing he could do about it now, he didn't see the point of complaining.

"Anytime. And I think there's only one, Dwaxen are solitary by nature and this one seems to be scavenging." Jack finished his sandwich and reached for a banana.

Eating a chocolate bar, Gwen was feeling better. She had some food and she was getting warm though her wet clothes still stuck to her. What she wouldn't give for a big fluffy towel to dry her hair and for dry clothes! "And those whatchamacallits will attract it and warn us?"

As he was in the process of drinking Jack didn't answer immediately. "Yeah," he said eventually, putting aside the empty water bottle, "they'll send a pulse to our mobiles. If we put the sensors in the right place."

"Well I put mine where you told me to."

"Then we'll be fine. Just have to sit here and wait for the Dwaxen to show himself." He finished the banana and was about to flip the skin into the growing darkness beyond the firelight when Ianto held out a hand and tutted. Jack reverently lay the skin in the outstretched hand, his teeth shining bright as he grinned.

"Thank you," said Ianto, putting the skin with the other discarded packaging in the carrier bag. "There's no need to make a mess."

Jack laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "You can take Ianto out of the Hub but he never changes!" he said delightedly. He reached across and kissed him comprehensively despite the other man's struggles.

"God, do I have to put up with this all night?" moaned Gwen, shifting to get her left side closer to the heat.

A flustered Ianto finally escaped from Jack's clutches. "Not if I have anything to say about it," he muttered. Gwen was aware of his 'relationship' with their boss but he saw no need to give her a ringside seat.

"Spoilsport," commented Jack lazily. He moved to lay on his side, propped up on his left elbow like a Roman Emperor. He was as wet as the others but did not let it bother him, he'd get dry again in time. "Which reminds me, how's Rhys?"

Gwen looked at him through narrowed eyes. Jack never asked about Rhys unless it was to poke fun. "Fine, thank you, why?"

"Haven't seen him for a while. Thought there might be trouble in paradise." Jack put some more wood on the fire.

"No there is not! We're very happy." She ignored him and looked over at Ianto. "Pass us an apple, sweetheart."

"So why's he not been coming to meet you?" persisted Jack, looking over the flames at her. "It was regular as clockwork until recently."

Biting into the apple gave Gwen a moment to think. Rhys was not coming because he was tired of Jack accompanying Gwen to the Tourist Office to say goodbye with a big hug in front of her husband. But if she told Jack that he'd have a field day and do it all the more. "He's working different hours, if it's any of your business. Harwoods are busy, you know, got lots more work on."

"There are a lot more of their lorries around," put in Ianto. He was eating some chocolate and that made him think of Myfanwy back at the Hub; he hoped she was all right.

They lapsed into silence, the crackle of the wood burning the only noise this far into the museum's site. No roads passed close and there were no occupied habitations within five miles. Ianto fed more wood onto the fire and turned the potatoes. He toyed with removing his shoes and attempting to dry them out but thought better of it. It would be just his luck that the Dwaxen would appear and he not have time to put them back on again. He settled for putting his feet as close to the fire as they could get without singeing. Jack was lying on his back, hands behind his head looking up at the smoke gathering in a cloud below the thatched roof. He liked the smell of a wood fire but the smoke was getting a bit thick – he hoped they would be out of there before it became a problem. Gwen lay curled on her side and thought of Rhys, warm at home having eaten a filling meal and sitting on the couch watching television. She wished she was with him.

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'w'," said Jack out of the blue.

"Wood," suggested Ianto without changing his position and keeping his voice low and neutral.

"Correct. Give the man a prize." Jack turned over onto his front and grinned at the Welshman. "Your turn."

"This is bloody stupid, there's only wood and stone here," complained Gwen.

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'b'," said Ianto, staring into the flames.

"Baked potato," said Jack.

"No."

"Beer."

"No."

Jack raised himself up on his forearms and looked round, searching for the elusive 'b'. "Blaze?" he hazarded.

"No."

"You're making it up."

Ianto shook his head. "No, I'm not."

Jack was frowning now and looking round even more intensely. He could not see anything beginning with a 'b' and that irritated him. He liked to win and win quickly so was now getting frustrated. And experience had taught him that Ianto did not care how irritated he got, the younger man would play the game to the end. "Bag," was a wild guess when Jack saw the carrier bag.

"No."

"Well give me a clue!"

"That's cheating." Ianto risked a glance towards Jack and smiled inwardly. His boss hated losing at simple games and he only lost because he jumped about from pillar to post. If he took a methodical approach he would have a better chance of guessing correctly.

"Boots," suggested Gwen. She had been staring at her own muddy ones.

"Correct." She was rewarded with a beaming smile and returned it. The two of them had grown closer in the months since the loss of Toshiko and Owen and now appreciated the strengths each brought to the small team. They also liked to gang up on the boss every now and again and bring him down a peg or two.

"Huh!" came from Jack who got up and moved to the unglazed window to peer out. It was still raining, coming down in stair rods as someone had once said, a phrase he had loved for the picture it conjured up. Even these few steps away from the fire the difference in temperature was noticeable and he had to suppress a shiver. He wished the Dwaxen would come out of hiding soon.

"Anything?" asked Ianto coming up beside him quietly. In the gloom, he slipped his hand onto the small of Jack's back, a small gesture that said 'sorry' for not letting him win the game.

"No, not yet." Jack turned so he faced Ianto then leant forward until their bodies were touching. He placed his hands on Ianto's hips and kissed him gently, loving the feel of the warm lips on his.

"Enough already," said Gwen. "If I'm not getting any, you two aren't either."

"Always room for one more," said Jack lightly.

Gwen made an indistinct dismissive noise and otherwise ignored him. "Are those wretched potatoes done yet, Ianto?"

With a small regretful sigh, Ianto walked back to the fire. "I'll check but I think they'll need longer." He sat down and prodded them gingerly. "Not ready yet," he confirmed.

"You owe me, Jack," said Gwen still staring at her boots. "These boots are ruined."

"And my shoes," added Ianto.

Jack came back to join them at the fire, staring out would not make the Dwaxen appear any quicker. His own feet were dry. The horror of Flanders mud had taught him to always wear the best boots he could find and to keep them in good order so they stayed waterproof. He never wanted trench foot again. "You know the procedure, put in a chit." He sat down and took the can of beer Ianto held out to him.

They were quiet again, sipping from the cans. Spending hours of every day together meant they covered most topics of conversation very quickly and new ones were hard to find. It also meant they knew one another very well and could be comfortable in silence together. The fire crackled and other than putting more wood on it, no one moved for a long time, content to think their own thoughts and dry out as best they could. Ianto turned the potatoes a time or two and decided they were nearly done. He speared a sausage and passed it to Jack who grinned and immediately held it to the flames.

"Oh thank God," muttered Gwen, struggling to sit upright, "it's about time." She took the stick with the sausage on it and copied Jack.

"Don't put them too close, they'll burn," warned Ianto.

"I've eaten plenty of burnt sausages. Brenda, my sainted mother-in-law, insists on having a barbecue every year," she said pulling a face, "food's never cooked properly."

"Barbecues in wet Wales," mused Jack, watching the fat from the sausage drip and sizzle in the flames, "isn't that just asking for trouble?"

"Are you criticising my homeland, Harkness?" she complained smiling.

"Wouldn't dare! Nowhere like it in the whole Galaxy." He was grinning at her.

"You know, I still find it hard to believe you've really been out there, travelling round other planets. It seems fantastic." She tested her sausage and burnt her fingers before deciding it needed a bit more cooking.

"It is, it is." Jack got a faraway look in his eyes remembering some of the places he had been, the things he had seen all of which he used to think of as normal, commonplace even.

"Do you miss it?"

He sighed deeply then looked at the two of them. "Sometimes. But it can wait. Right now I'm happy where I am, here with you two." They shared a moment of complete accord which was shattered by all three mobile phones emitting a high pitched, constant tone. "Dwaxen!" shouted Jack, dropping the sausage in the fire and on his feet in an instant. "Come on!"

Ianto was beside him holding out the greatcoat for Jack to shrug on. Gwen was still by the fire staring at her sausage and dreaming of hot food but then she shook herself out of her trance and dropped it, on her feet and behind the other two as they exited the cottage. She grabbed the umbrella as she passed thinking it a handy weapon as well as something to hold off the rain. Then she was out in the rain again chasing after her colleagues and cursing all aliens who lived in woods.

* * *

_Views and reviews always welcome._


	32. I'll Be Here

_Another story set after Children of Earth. This is about Jack and Ianto._

* * *

**I'll Be Here**

He'd been here before. Not this particular bar in this particular city in this particular country. But he'd been in this deep, dark pit before. Hating himself. Hating what he was and most of all hating what he did to other people. He downed the whisky and gestured to the barmaid for another.

Tessa poured the drink. She'd been keeping an eye on the customer who had sat at the bar saying nothing and drinking whisky neat for the past hour or more. He'd put money on the bar, more than enough to cover the half dozen glasses he'd downed before this latest one. He was keeping to himself and appeared to be holding the drink well which was more than Tessa could say for the group of loudmouths in the corner. They'd only been on beer but they were egging one another on and getting obnoxious. She wondered about calling Dave, the manager, but he had been working 'til early this morning and needed the down time.

"Hey, darling, how about you come and join us for a drink?" A slimy, black haired man who she had heard called Mitch was standing in front of her. He was the loudest of the group of loudmouths and his hand was on her wrist, pinning it to the bar in a vice-like grip. "You know you want to." He leered and Tessa pulled back.

"No. Get off!" She pulled her arm but could not get it free. "I said no!"

"Don't be stupid, darling, I can see you're gagging for it." His other hand reached across the bar and grabbed the back of her head, pulling her towards him.

Frantically she reached under the bar and found the panic button. She pressed it before she was yanked away as Mitch pulled her further towards him. She hoped the brief contact she had made was enough to alert Dave in the back office.

"Dave," she yelled at the top of her voice, "I need you out here, now!" Suddenly her head and arm were free and she toppled sideways, only saved from falling by holding on to one of the beer taps.

She shook the hair from her eyes and watched as the quiet whisky drinker slammed her erstwhile attacker's head down on the bar – once, twice, three times. Blood sprayed out from the man's broken nose. But then Mitch's friends were on the whisky drinker, four to one and yet against the odds the whisky drinker was winning. He laid into the four toughs and sent them reeling: one went head first into the wall, another was felled by blows to the stomach and chin, the third collapsed after his arm was twisted behind his back and broken and the last was slammed into the metal rail around the foot of the bar. The man was standing, legs apart and panting when Mitch stabbed him through the heart with a flick knife. Tessa saw his face, watched in horror as her rescuer's knees crumpled and he fell face down to the floor.

Later she swore to anyone who would listen that he was smiling as he fell.

The familiar blackness welled around Jack Harkness. The nothingness of death claimed him for the first time since those terrible events with the 456 weeks earlier. He welcomed it as a moment of peace away from his mortal cares. Unfortunately it would not be for long, it took longer to recover from a stabbing than from bullets but not that much longer. The darkness was complete and he floated in a place without senses – no sight or sounds except … Was there something in the dark with him?

"Hello, Jack."

Jack would have held his breath if he had been breathing. As it was he waited, wondering what phenomenon had brought that voice to him in this place.

"I've been waiting for you."

"_Ianto?" _thought Jack.

"Yes. You can't see me but I can make you 'hear' me and I can hear you. I knew you'd come here eventually."

"_How? Why?"_

"How doesn't matter. Why? Because I wanted to tell you, again, that what happened to me was not your fault."

"_It was."_

"No. But I guess you're not ready to believe that." Jack could almost hear the sigh in the voice.

"_I'll never believe it. I miss you so much. I love you."_

"Do you? You didn't say it, back then."

Jack understood. Even as Ianto lay dying in his arms, Jack had been unable to say the words. It was a small regret among the many, many thousands of others in his life. _"I couldn't. You know me."_

"Yes, I do." The sigh was in the voice again.

"_Are you all right?"_ Jack realised the stupidity of the words even as he thought them. But he couldn't bear to think of Ianto alone in this dark place.

"As well as I can be. I've found my place and it's fine. It's not like this. Where I am is bright and colourful with lots to do. I only came here to see you."

"_There's more, more than this?"_ demanded Jack, putting urgency and need into his thoughts. He had always believed that this was all there was after death. Suzie had said the same.

"Much more. So much more and so much better than you could imagine. We all have a place here."

Jack hesitated but had to ask, _"Are you alone?"_

"No. There are lots of people here, people I know, people you know. Steven's here."

Somehow, despite being dead, Jack managed to sob at the reminder of his grandson.

"He understands why you did what you did," continued Ianto's voice in Jack's head. "He forgives you."

"_No, it was unforgivable."_ Jack's thoughts were a whisper.

"That's not what he thinks. But I understand. It'll take time for you to forgive yourself, I know that. Just know he's happy here."

"_I'll never forgive myself, never." _At that moment Jack believed that to be true but he was also aware that time - of which he had an over abundance – would dull the pain and the guilt.

"Yes, you will."

Jack felt the familiar stirring as his cells received the jolt of life from somewhere within him. He panicked, staring with blind eyes and listening with deaf ears for the presence of Ianto.

"I'm still here," came the familiar Welsh tones. "I'll be here waiting when you come again."

"_Promise?"_ pleaded Jack.

"I'm going to wait for you until we can be together forever. And there will be a time for that, Jack, I know. Now get back. The doctor's about to arrive to check you over. If you go back now you'll be able to talk your way out of coming back from the dead. Goodbye, Jack."

The voice of Ianto faded and Jack sent out his thoughts to keep him near but it was too late. Light and feeling flooded back and with a gasp, Jack's eyes opened and he found himself lying on the floor of the nameless bar in the nameless city in the nameless country. He sat up and looked round, he was alone. Getting to his feet he stumbled outside, seeing and avoiding the gathered ambulances and paramedics treating the toughs who had killed him. It was night and he kept to the darkest shadows, slinking away to find another place to hide.

But, wherever he was, he could not hide from himself and the memory of what he had done; the images were seared onto his brain.

But inside his dark soul, a small flicker of hope had been ignited.

* * *

_Let me know what you thought of this one, I love getting your feedback._


	33. Why Didn't You Tell Me?

_A conversation between Jack and Ianto on Day Four of Children of Earth_

* * *

**Why Didn't You Tell Me?**

The warehouse was quiet except for the water dripping somewhere and the flames crackling in the old oil drum. Gwen and Rhys were sitting on the couch, his arm round her as they talked quietly. Clem was curled up in a ball, asleep after the upsets when he had met Jack for the second time.

Ianto still could not believe that Jack had not mentioned his part in the decision to appease the 456 back in 1965. It was such a huge decision with such terrible consequences for millions of children – or possibly the whole world. Tapping at the keys of the stolen laptop, Ianto accessed the Torchwood database and tried all his various codes to find information about the events of forty years earlier but even with Jack's codes – some of which Jack knew he had and others that he didn't – Ianto could find nothing about it. The whole sorry tale had been completely buried and Ianto, the master archivist, knew how difficult that was to achieve.

Finally, Ianto gave up and accepted that there were no records of the real fate of the eleven children given to the 456. He sat back, wondering what the aliens wanted the children for and decided it could not be good. Children. He thought of David and Mica and vowed again to do everything in his power to keep them safe. Remembering his own family reminded him of Jack's startling declaration about his own daughter and grandson. How weird that sounded, he mused, that Jack could have a daughter older than Ianto himself and a grandson. Another thing Jack had not considered it necessary to mention.

"All right there, Ianto?" called Gwen from the couch. She was as shocked as he was by Jack's revelations but with so much else to worry about – not least her unborn baby – she had decided to shelve it for now and to find out more later, when the 456 had been defeated.

"Yes."

"Any chance of a coffee?" asked Rhys who had learnt early on that only Ianto was allowed to make the beverage.

"Of course."

Ianto got up and went to their improvised kitchen and made four coffees, correctly assuming the Clem would sleep for a while longer yet. He handed Gwen and Rhys theirs and took his own and Jack's with him as he climbed the rickety stairs to the gallery where Jack was standing looking out across London. It was ridiculous how reassuring it was to see the tall, broad-shouldered man standing with hands in his pockets and greatcoat billowing in the slight breeze. Seeing him in T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms had been unnerving. Of course, seeing him at all after he'd been blown to pieces was a miracle. Ianto stood beside his boss and held out the mug.

"Thanks." Jack took the drink and held it in both hands.

Jack had been going over and over all he knew and all he and the team had gleaned and he still had no idea how they were going to get into Thames House let alone defeat the 456. The aliens were immensely powerful and so little was known about them it was impossible to formulate a decent plan. It didn't help that his mind kept wandering back to that hillside in Scotland and the handover of the children. Or to the mental picture of Alice and Steven locked up in a cell somewhere. They were innocent of everything and did not deserve to be dragged into his mess. Lucia had got Alice away and protected her, and then Joe and Steven, as best she could and while he regretted not being a part of his daughter's life, he was glad she had been safe.

"Why didn't you tell me, Jack?" asked Ianto after he had stood in silence for five minutes.

"It was a long time ago. I had no idea it had anything to do with this."

"I meant about Alice and Steven."

Jack remembered the coffee and drank half of it in one draught. "I lost them a long time ago. It was easier to forget."

"But Frobisher and his people found them so they must have had a trail to follow. Something that led them from you to them." Ianto turned to face Jack. "You are in touch with them, aren't you?"

"I send Alice money. See them … once or twice a year maybe. That's all she'll allow." The last was whispered.

"Are there any more? Any more children, grandchildren or maybe great-grandchildren out there, Jack?" demanded Ianto.

"What's it to you if there are?"

"I thought we were … that we meant something to one another. That we were a couple! Couples talk, Jack, they share."

"So when were you going to tell me about your sister? Let me meet her?" challenged Jack, turning to face the Welshman. He had a pang of regret when he saw the expression on Ianto's face change but Jack was tired of always being the one accused of keeping secrets. "I only know about her because I read your personnel file. You've never mentioned her to me and they lived a couple of miles from the Hub." Jack finished his coffee.

There was nothing Ianto could say in answer to the accusation. Jack was right, Ianto had said nothing about Rhiannon and Johnny and the kids, had kept them a secret. Like he had so many other secrets, using small untruths to cover up a working class background and hard childhood of which he was ashamed. He laughed, suddenly and genuinely.

"We're two of a kind, aren't we?" he said, smiling at Jack.

"We deserve one another," agreed Jack, returning the smile.

"How about, when this is all over, we start being honest with each other?"

"Good idea. Now let's go see what we can find to defeat the 456 and get back to Cardiff. I hate London."

The two men turned and walked back downstairs. Ianto Jones was dead before the end of the day and Jack Harkness had no wish to remember anything about that or his actions the day after for a very, very long time – if ever.

* * *


	34. Sally

_Someone comes to help the team when one of them is injured .._

* * *

**Sally**

Ianto Jones drove into the street of terraced houses which had originally been built for dock workers back in the late 19th century but were now a mixture of starter homes for Cardiff's young people and the long term dwellings of retired folk, many of whom had been born and lived all their lives in the same home. From the outside you could immediately tell which was which. The young people had replaced the windows and gravelled over the patch of front garden while the long term residents had retained all the old features and still scrubbed the front doorsteps and washed the windows unlike their newer neighbours who did not seem to notice the grime. There were dozens of such streets all over Cardiff and hundreds if not thousands in the UK. Ianto slowed to check the house numbers, he was looking for 45.

He found number 41 and drew up to the kerb behind a builders' lorry and another couple of cars. There was scaffolding outside number 43 – new people had moved in and were renewing the roof. He got out and locked the SUV then walked past a skip and stopped outside number 45. It was of the old type, all original and in immaculate condition. Opening the front gate, he took two paces to the front door, past postage stamp flower beds full of daffodils, crocus and tulips. The front door was painted a deep blue. Ianto hesitated for a moment then pressed the bell on the right hand side; it was foolish to be afraid.

The bell tinkled inside and Ianto waited apprehensively. He had never met a witch before, well, not knowingly anyway and was not sure what to expect. He doubted she would be like in the fairy tales of his childhood: flying on a broomstick, a cat on her shoulder and ugly with a large hooked nose and chin. And warts, witches always had warts. The picture stayed with him, too many Disney films as a child, and when he heard movement from the other side of the door he unconsciously braced himself for whatever might appear. The woman was so ordinary he had already opened his mouth to apologise for getting the wrong house when she spoke.

"You made good time," she said in a broad Welsh accent. "I thought I'd have a bit longer to get my bits and pieces together. Ah well, you'll just have to come in and wait. I'll be another five minutes."

"Ms Jenkins?" he queried, still thinking he was in the wrong place. She probably thought he was her lift to the lunch club or something.

"That's right. Now come on in or I'll never be ready and Jack said it was urgent. Mind you," she went on musingly as Ianto crossed the threshold, "it always is with him. Never known him to say, 'Take your time, Sally, no need to rush'." She chuckled and shut the door behind him. "I'm in the kitchen."

They both turned sideways so that she could pass him and she led the way down the passage to the back of the house. Ianto followed, looking around him and at her. The hallway was papered in a light green stripe and the carpet underfoot was also green. The paintwork was white and everywhere was as immaculate as the outside of the house. He peeked into the rooms as they passed open doors and saw a front room and a dining room that looked remarkably like those of his Jones grandparents. There was no sign of a broomstick or a cat but he thought these might be in the kitchen. The woman herself, Sally Jenkins, was short, not much more than five feet two or three, and dumpy dressed in a tweed skirt, cream blouse with a cameo brooch at the neck and a brown cardigan all of them well worn. She had a shock of white hair framing a lined face and a twinkle in her eye. This was very evident when, in the kitchen, she turned to face him.

"I suppose you're so nervous because Jack told you I was a witch. Don't worry, I haven't got a cauldron to boil you up in." She chuckled some more and went to one of the kitchen wall cabinets and took out a jar. "You'll have seen many more phantasmagorical things than me, you working for Torchwood." With deft movements she transferred some of the jar's contents to a plastic bag and sealed it shut.

Ianto smiled sheepishly. "I've never met a witch," he admitted, leaning against the doorjamb and watching as she took out more jars and filled more plastic bags. The kitchen was like any other in the street - cabinets, cooker and fridge freezer – with nary a broomstick or cat in sight. But what was in the jars? Eye of newt perhaps? Or toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog? He shook his head, amazed he remembered so much from his school English lessons.

"There aren't many of us left that know the old arts. And that's all it is, Ianto, just folklore handed down from mother to daughter together with a knack for healing. Oh, there's plenty of people set themselves up as being able to cast spells and such, even advertise on the Internet I'm told, but the real arts can't be taught like that." Sally took a cloth bag from a drawer and placed a slim box, a silver and glass bowl and the plastic bags inside.

Ianto started. "How did you know my name, I didn't tell you." He was staring at her: had she got the second sight?

"I'd like to tell you I divined it," she replied smiling up at him, "but Jack told me when he rang. He said he was sending a nice young man called Ianto who would drive slowly and safely." She shook her head, "Can't stand driving with Jack, he goes too fast."

"Oh." Ianto smiled at her, relieved and feeling foolish for the second time in five minutes. "He is a bit reckless behind the wheel."

"Now, young Ianto, I just need my coat then we can be off." She checked the back door was locked and shooed him along the passage to the front door. Stopping by an old fashioned coat rack she pulled on a shapeless felt hat and a thick woollen coat. "Now I'm ready."

Opening the front door, Ianto led the way out and offered to carry the cloth bag which she graciously allowed him. She pulled the door to and tried it twice to be sure it was properly secure then, handbag over her arm, she went through the gate Ianto held open for her. They reached the SUV and Sally stood back and regarded it with a frown on her face.

"Is there a problem?" asked Ianto, seeing her hesitate. He had put the bag – carefully – on the back seat and wondered what the difficulty could be: did she foresee an accident? Was black an unlucky colour?

"Yes, dear. I can't climb up there, my legs are too short and I'm too old."

Relieved, Ianto went round to the passenger side. "Allow me to assist you." With a judiciously placed hand under her left arm and one on her back he helped her clamber up into the passenger seat which was indeed high for her to reach unaided. She settled herself comfortably, with her handbag on her knee, and he did up the seatbelt for her.

The journey to the Hub took twenty minutes and Ianto made sure to drive slowly and carefully. She was an interested passenger, remarking on the streets they passed and the people out and about on this spring morning. The one way road system confused her but she trusted him to find the way to the Bay. He felt as he had when he'd picked up his Aunt Matilda and driven her to his parent's house all those years ago when he'd just passed his test, nervous and overwhelmed with the responsibility. He pulled up in the over ground car park as advised by Jack and helped her climb out of the vehicle. Carrying her bag, he gave her his arm and led her to the Tourist Office entrance.

"It's just through here," he said, punching in the access code for the Office door.

"I know, dear, I've been here before." She looked solemn for a moment, adding in a low voice that he barely heard, "Hope I can do more this time."

He ushered her inside and locked the door behind them before opening the concealed door, noting that she was waiting in the right spot to walk through. They went along the tunnel and down in the lift to the Hub where the cog door was open. Ianto held her arm as she crossed the gap where the door ran and then allowed her to precede him up the steps to the work area.

"Jack!" he called, moving round Sally to put the bag down on the coffee table before helping her off with her coat and hat.

"You made it." Jack bounded up from the medical bay. "Sally, good to see you again. Thanks for coming." He bent down and gave her a hug.

"I see you still haven't decorated in here," she said when he released her. Her gaze was going round the dirty walls and grimy tiles. "It is tidier though."

"That's all Ianto's good work," smiled Jack. The smile did not last long and was replaced by a worried frown.

"I thought it might be. Now, where's the patient?" She reached for her handbag and looked up at Jack expectantly.

"Down here." Jack led the way to the medical bay and down the steps. "We've tried all the conventional medicines and treatments. I just hope you can do something." He was standing at the end of the examination table looking down at the unconscious Toshiko. Owen was standing by her side monitoring the IV drip and looked across at them with a scowl on her face. Gwen was hovering nearby with nothing to do but wanting to be close.

"Tell me what happened." Sally put her bag down and studied Toshiko. She ran her hands over the still body keeping them an inch or two above the recumbent form.

Running a hand through his hair distractedly, Jack related the events of the previous day. They had tracked down an artefact that had come through the Rift and brought it back to the Hub. Tests had proved negative for known dangers so Toshiko had started to investigate it further. She had been fine, working late into the night as she was intrigued with the thing's properties. Jack had gone out with Ianto and when he'd returned early in the morning he had found Toshiko lying on the floor by her desk. In the hours since, Owen had run standard and non standard tests but could not revive her.

"I remembered what you did for Francis and this seemed similar," concluded Jack.

"Umm." Sally was studying Toshiko, bending over to look into her face and sniffing.

"This is ridiculous, Jack. You know what I think of hocus-pocus," complained Owen. He was frustrated at not being able to help Toshiko and suspicious of this old woman Jack had brought in to help. "We should be analysing the artefact."

"If we could find it, we would!" countered Jack. "The artefact disappeared, Sally. CCTV just showed a flash of light before Tosh was thrown backwards."

"Umm," she repeated. "My bag please, Ianto." She smiled up at him. "Just hold it open so I can reach in. I'll need some hot water too."

"I'll get it," volunteered Gwen, eager to have something to do. She went off up the steps.

Sally calmly took out the contents of the cloth bag, placing them on an instrument tray Ianto pushed close. "She's out of balance, Jack. I may be able to help." The glass and silver bowl was the last item she placed on the tray before looking at Owen. "How did you die?" she asked conversationally.

Jack glanced sharply at Ianto, his expression questioning. Ianto shook his head, he had said nothing about Owen's undead state.

"Shot. Want to see the wound?" Owen was never very gracious and being told to stand aside for someone he considered a charlatan had not improved his temper. He was also worried about Toshiko. Her life signs were faint, particularly brain activity, and her white blood count was low which did not make sense when taken with her other symptoms.

Sally smiled gently and shook her head. "I'm sorry." She went back to the tray, taking a pinch or two each from three of the plastic bags and putting them in the bowl. Gwen clattered down the steps with the still steaming kettle. "Oh thank you, dear, just pour a little in here." She held out the bowl. "Gently now. That's fine."

Gwen stood the kettle on the bottom step and moved closer. She didn't really believe in witches, imagining the same kind of person as Ianto had, and was keen to see what this old lady was doing. The bowl smelt sweet and vaguely antiseptic. "What's in there?" she asked.

"Some herbs." Sally reach for another bag and sprinkled a pinch from it into the bowl. "I think Ianto was expected something altogether more gruesome," she added smiling up at the quiet young man. "I'm sorry, dear, I don't know your name," she said to Gwen.

"Sorry, Sally, this is Gwen and Owen." Jack made the introductions. "Sally Jenkins."

"All new," commented Sally, stirring the bowl with a slender silver spoon she had taken from the box. "Such a pity, such a pity."

Gwen looked at her and then around at the others, puzzled. "What's a pity, Sally?" she asked in her best caring tone, the one that encouraged confidences.

"Why, that the others have gone, dear. I liked Lucia and Alex." She smiled, "And the others, of course, it's just that I knew them best. Now, let's see what this does." With calm, capable movements Sally filled a silver tube similar to a pipette with the mixture in the bowl and went to put it in Toshiko's mouth.

"Hold it," commanded Owen, putting out a hand to prevent her. "I want to know what that stuff is before I let you give it to my patient."

"Owen," warned Jack, "leave her be. Sally knows what she's doing and nothing of hers would hurt anyone."

Sally waited, looking calmly at Owen and did nothing until with a sigh of exasperation he took a half step back from the examination table. "Jack's right, Owen, it's just herbs." She placed the tube between Toshiko's lips and let the contents dribble into her mouth at the same time rubbing gently at the still woman's throat to encourage her to swallow. "Gwen, come and wipe up the spills please."

Gwen moved forward with a soft cloth and wiped at the liquid that had escaped from Toshiko's mouth. She watched fascinated as Sally used the tube again to put more of the hot infusion into her friend's mouth. As she waited with cloth at the ready, Gwen heard Sally muttering under her breath in a sing-song manner but try as she might she could not make out any words. They carried on in this way for five more minutes, Sally feeding the infusion and muttering as she rubbed at Toshiko's throat.

From his place at the foot of the table, Jack watched and saw Toshiko swallow and hoped that it would work. He had known Sally's mother and witnessed her talent for healing and had not been surprised when Sally had inherited it. Jack did not know what they did but he did know that they had cured people when conventional medicine had been ineffective. Torchwood did not believe in witches but Jack had a more open mind and had called on Sally and her mother's services on several occasions. It had not always worked, usually because matters had progressed too far before they were called in, but he had seen enough successes to have a deep respect for their talents.

Sally stood up and surveyed her patient, nodding slightly. A small smile curved her lips and she turned to Jack, "She'll do for now. There's nothing more I can do for the moment."

Owen moved back to his previous position, his actions rough and urgent in comparison to Sally's gentle ways, and listened to Toshiko's heart and checked his monitors. He hesitated then checked again: there had been a slight improvement but he refused to believe it was due to the old woman's herbs.

Putting aside her bowl, Sally watched the doctor and smiled. "Let her rest for a while. Jack, do you think I could have a cup of tea?"

"Of course. Ianto?"

"My pleasure. Everyone else want coffee?" he asked before he left the medical bay.

"Would you like to sit down?" asked Gwen solicitously. She was hovering near the old lady ready to help if needed. "The sofa up there's quite comfortable."

"That would be nice. I'm sure Owen will let me know of any changes to this young lady." She nodded towards Toshiko.

"Owen, let us know," ordered Jack, putting out a hand to assist Sally up the steps. He was not at all sure Owen would alert them.

"Her name's Toshiko," said Gwen, following Jack and Sally up the steps. "And is she cured?" She heard Owen's snort of derision but the start he had given when checking the monitors after the 'treatment' had told Gwen that there had been a change for the better.

"Not yet, dear, but I think she's making progress. Healing takes time." She and Gwen sat on the sofa and Jack pulled over Toshiko's chair to join them.

"Tell me, Sally, how have you been?" he asked.

"Very well, thank you, Jack. My rheumatism plays up but this nice weather helps." She looked around and smiled. "Not that you'd know about the sunshine being down here all day."

"We get out - now and again," said Gwen ruefully. Since her return from honeymoon she'd only seen daylight when chasing Weevils or responding to the Rift. She'd barely seen Rhys either.

"Your tea," said Ianto, passing a china cup and saucer to Sally. The coffee was in the usual chunky mugs.

"I didn't know you had cups and saucers," remarked Gwen, accepting her mug.

"They're for special visitors." Ianto looked smug as he sipped his own coffee.

They sat and drank their beverages, talking a little. Sally was tired, healing drained her, and after finishing the tea she put her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. The others noticed and stopped talking, not wanting to disturb her.

"I'm not asleep, just resting my eyes," she said without opening them. A smile played around her lips. "Don't feel you have keep me company if you've better things to do."

Jack stood, passing his empty mug to Ianto. "I'll get on with the paperwork then."

"And I'll check on Tosh," added Gwen, heading for the medical bay.

"Let me know if you need anything," said Ianto softly before walking away to the kitchen.

Ten minutes later the peace was shattered by the Rift alarm and the team converged on Tosh's desk. "It's a big one," said Jack. "Gwen, Ianto, you're with me. Owen, stay here and coordinate. And keep an eye on Tosh."

"I can do that for you," volunteered Sally, standing up and walking the medical bay. "You can leave her to me."

Owen looked after her and hesitated, he really did not trust alternative medicine in any shape or form. Homeopathy, acupuncture and the rest were included in his list of ineffective and useless remedies so witchcraft was so far out there it was not even worth mentioning. He wanted to go to Toshiko and help her but, he reluctantly had to admit, he had done her no good at all in the past nine hours while whatever Sally had given her had made a small improvement. The others had gone leaving him still halfway between Toshiko's desk and the medical bay. With a final shrug, he went to the desk and started analysing the Rift opening.

Finding a brace of Slabs in Penarth guarding their dead controller kept Jack and the others busy for a couple of hours as they battled to persuade them, at first peacefully and then with force, to stop attacking passing shoppers. Owen sniggered as he saw Ianto tossed aside but winced when Gwen went down and did not get up again: more work for him. With Owen directing operations, Jack and Ianto – back on his feet – finally brought the Slabs down and disabled them. Gwen had recovered and was sitting up, looking round groggily and had to be helped into the SUV while Ianto and Jack did the clear up and liaised with the police. The team were on their way back when Owen finally had a chance to see what was happening in the medical bay.

"Owen!" yelled Jack as he entered the Hub, Gwen in his arms. "I need you to take a look at Gwen." He was climbing the steps and heading for the medical bay when he noticed someone sitting on the sofa. "Tosh!" he cried delightedly, stopping suddenly. She looked pale but she was conscious and aware, even smiling at him.

"Bring her here," said Owen from the archway, gesturing to Jack. "I thought Gwen was okay?"

"She lost consciousness in the SUV, about five minutes ago," Jack explained, flashing a grin at Toshiko and carrying on to the medical bay behind Owen. "I think it's concussion."

Ianto entered the Hub with the two Slabs on a trolley, carefully manoeuvring over the uneven ground. He stopped to take the equipment box – resting on top of the Slabs – up to the work area where he grinned delightedly on seeing Toshiko. "Tosh, how are you?"

"Better," she admitted, smiling at him. She turned to take the mug from Sally who had reappeared from the kitchen. "Thank you."

"Drink that, dear. Little sips." Sally sat beside Toshiko. "You've been busy," she said to Ianto, "we've been watching you. Are you all right? You took quite a tumble."

"Just bruised my dignity – again! I'll get our guests downstairs then think about lunch." He went off with the trolley, pushing it as far as he could then hefting one Slab over his shoulder and disappearing.

"Tosh, you're looking better." Jack had come back and threw his greatcoat over Owen's chair before sitting on the coffee table in front of Toshiko. "How do you feel?"

"A bit woozy but getting there." She smiled at him before sipping more of the herb tea.

"You need to be quiet for a few hours, Toshiko. Get some rest and let your body's humours find total balance," said Sally gently. "Can she go home, Jack? Rest now will complete the healing and then she'll be right as rain tomorrow."

"Of course she can. I'll get Ianto to drive you, soon as he's back from wherever he's gone." Jack looked round expecting to see the Welshman in one of the corners of the Hub.

"He's gone to the cells with those things you caught," explained Toshiko. "I do think some sleep would do me good." She felt weak as a kitten but grateful to be alive after the jolt the exploding artefact had given her. "How's Gwen?"

"Coming round. She banged her head pretty hard but she's got a thick skull." Jack smiled as Ianto came to join them, his suit a bit rumpled from heaving the Slabs around. "Can you drive Tosh home?"

"Of course. I can pick up some lunch at the same time. Will you stay and have something with us?" he asked Sally with a smile.

"Thank you, dear, but no. I'd rather get back home, if you could drop me off too," she replied.

"Sure he will," agreed Jack, "if we really can't tempt you to stay."

"No, Jack. I'd quite like a rest myself." She smiled and he knew he would not be able to change her mind. She looked like everyone's idea of a meek old lady but she was made of steel.

Half an hour later, Gwen had taken Toshiko's place on the sofa, still a bit shaky but well on the way to recovery. Owen made a point of helping Sally with her coat and grudgingly thanked her for her assistance, as far as he would go but a huge step for him. Ianto led the way with Toshiko while Jack escorted Sally as far as the Tourist Office.

"Thanks again, Sally. I owe you." Jack hugged the diminutive woman.

"My pleasure, Jack. And I'm still in your debt." She kissed his cheek and turned to leave the office, taking Toshiko's arm in hers and walking off towards where the SUV was parked.

Ianto frowned slightly and looked at Jack, an eyebrow raised.

"I'll tell you later," promised his boss with a grin. "Get them home safe."

Ianto Jones met Sally Jenkins twice more. Bare weeks later, she attended the funeral service for Toshiko, sitting unobtrusively in the back of the church. A month after that, she helped the depleted Torchwood team when Ianto himself was injured. She died in her bed when her house collapsed during the upheaval when the Daleks stole Earth.

* * *


	35. Sally's Story

_This story follows on from the last chapter, Sally._

* * *

**Sally's Story**

It had become a habit for Jack and Ianto to share a cup of coffee at the end of the working day. They were not always alone, usually one of the others was in the Hub with them, but they could sit in the office and be private for half an hour or so and talk about the day. Sometimes their chat would be followed by some dabbling, sometimes not. It was with no expectations that Ianto walked into the office and put the coffee mug on the desk in front of Jack and drew the visitor's chair to a more comfortable angle for his long legs and sat down himself.

"Alone at last," Jack sighed. It had been an unusual day with both Toshiko and Gwen injured. They'd been lucky that both women had recovered and were now resting at home.

"Not quite. Owen's downstairs with Janet."

"What does he do with her?" No," he said quickly, holding up a hand, "I don't want to know."

"He talks to her. For hours," replied Ianto. "I suppose he has more time now he doesn't need sleep." He sipped his coffee. "Tell me about Sally, Jack. What's her story?"

Jack smiled across the desk. "Surprised you haven't checked the database."

"I did. There's nothing there."

"There's not a lot to tell, not really."

"Tell me anyway. Why is she in your debt?"

"I saved her life, and her mother's, back in the thirties." He took a long drink from his coffee then began to talk, remembering times past. "Cardiff was a different city back then - industrial, dirty - and it was the end of the Depression though they didn't know it then. The men were scrambling for work as the coal trade ended and everyone was hungry. Combine that with the rising tide of fascism, communism and socialism and it was a heady brew in the narrow alleys of Cardiff."

_Cardiff 1938_

Jack stood at the back of the crowd gathered in Bute Park and listened to the rhetoric pouring from the speaker's mouth. Fighting for the working man and securing decent working conditions were noble goals but this man was arguing for the overthrow of law and order. The crowd was raucous, cheering and jeering in equal measure. They'd had a decade of depression and had been poor enough to begin with, most of them literally had nothing, and this free show was their entertainment. Agitators had been circulating all over Wales and Jack had taken to attending the meetings of the different factions when he was flush and could avoid Torchwood. The crowd was losing interest in the speaker and so was Jack. His attendance here was purely a personal interest for him, a way of keeping his finger on the pulse of the city. He was turning to leave when he saw a group of local toughs off to one side. He knew them of old, bully boys who worked for anyone who would pay. Assuming they were going to start trouble among the crowd, Jack edged closer to hear what they were saying.

"I tell you, Dai, I saw it with my own eyes."

The man addressed as Dai scoffed. "And next you'll be telling me she flew off on a broomstick!"

"Well, she's got one," the first man persisted, "it's in her outhouse and a great big cauldron."

"My mam's got one of them! Honestly, Gwyn, you're simple, you are." Dai turned, dismissing Gwyn, and the other two men who had listened silently turned to go with him.

"She's got food, lots of food," said Gwyn urgently, putting a hand on Dai's grimy jacket sleeve. "And money. Where's she get that from, eh?"

Dai eyed up Gwyn, his face losing the disbelief. "Money you say? How much?"

"Don't know, but enough to live in that house, just the two of them. No man bringing in a wage so how does she pay the rent?" Gwyn realised he had caught the other man's attention and pressed home his advantage. "She's a witch, I tell you. Casts spells and makes people give her money."

Jack's interest was piqued and he slid closer, using a movement in the crowd as cover. He knew of only one witch in Cardiff, Dilys Jenkins, and he did not want to see her harmed. She was a healer and had helped a number of people to his certain knowledge. Of course, these men could be talking about another woman, someone who did not fit in, who was different.

"Where's she live?" asked Dai.

"Mafeking Terrace, just opposite the fishmongers. We going to do her, Dai?" Gwyn licked his lips and his face became that of a hunter after his prey.

"No not us, her neighbours. Let them do the dirty work for us then we go in and get the money." Dai's face formed a rictus grin and he drew his confederates in closer.

Jack wasted no more time. It was Dilys they were after, he had to get down there and warn her. He pushed his way through the crowd which was getting unruly. The speaker had lost their attention and they were showing their displeasure by throwing cobbles and bricks brought with them for just this purpose. The police, some of them mounted, who had been watching from the sidelines moved in to prevent a riot and Jack got caught between the two sides. A cobble grazed his temple and he stumbled and was soon pushed to the ground by those around him and trampled underfoot. He died slowly.

Gasping back to life, Jack looked around. The crowd and the police had moved on leaving him and a number of other men lying on the ground where they had fallen. He looked to where Dai and his gang had been gathered but they were gone and when Jack checked his watch he realised he had been dead for a quarter of an hour, more than enough time for them to get to Dilys' house. Hauling himself to his feet, he ran off and headed down towards the docks and Mafeking Terrace making one stop on the way.

Dilys lived in an end of terrace house that was spotless inside and out. She and her four year old daughter, Sally, had moved in eight months before and liked the area. The neighbours were friendly enough, nodding when they passed in the street, and Mrs Pritchard two doors down had minded Sally a few times when Dilys had been called away to an urgent case. This afternoon, she and her daughter were in the back kitchen baking cakes, little ones with currants. They were well provided for thanks to her helping out at the Castle and she knew they lived better than most of the others in the street. Life was good and the two of them were singing as they worked and did not hear the sound of hobnails on the cobbles outside and the murmur of angry voices.

A brick smashing through the front window was the first Dilys knew of danger. "Stay here, love," she told Sally, pushing her into the corner between the sink and the copper.

"Mam?" said Sally, scared at the noises from outside.

"Shhh." Dilys looked through the door into the front room and saw figures on the pavement and road outside and heard the noise of men, angry men. She knew what that meant and she listened intently. The men outside were still building up their courage, there may be time to head them off if she acted quickly. "Don't move, Sal." She spared a smile for her daughter and then strode through the front room, ignoring a second brick, and opened the front door.

Silence fell on the crowd of about thirty men and a few women gathered outside the house. They had not expected the witch to show herself, nor for her to be in wrap-around apron and have flour on her face. She looked like their mothers and wives not the witch of their imagination.

"What do you want here? If you needed my help with your sick daughter, Mervyn Jones, you should have knocked on the door not thrown a brick through the window." A small ripple of laughter greeted this and the man addressed looked at his boots. "And you, Stephen Price, is your wife needing me to help birth your child? Is that why you're here?"

She had them now, had stopped them from being a mob and made them individuals again. They would have dispersed but for a shout from the back of the crowd. "Looks well fed, don't she? Not like the rest of us." Another shout came from the other side. "And how come she can afford to live here on the little she earns?" The crowd was united again and the sense of menace grew. "She killed my cat," came from a woman standing well back, "to make her spells." "She's a witch!" came a man's voice and the call was taken up. "Witch! Witch!"

Dilys knew she had lost her chance to stop them and stepped back, slamming the door. She had to take Sally and get out the back way before she was trapped. In the kitchen she grabbed the terrified girl's arm and pulled her to her feet. "Come on," she snapped and went to the back door but it would not open. Faces appeared at the window and Dilys knew they had blocked the door. Towing Sally behind her, she ran back to the front room and pushed her up the steep stairs, following close behind. It would not protect them from the mob's fury for long once they screwed up courage to enter the house but it would gain them some time.

Below her, Dai and one of his men continued feeding the crowd's hatred, keeping it occupied at the front of the house while Gwyn and the other man went in through the back door to ransack the place for the money the witch had to have hidden away. How else could she afford to live there? But matters came to a head too quickly and Nat Smith, seeing shadowy figures in the front room, threw paraffin through the window followed by a burning stick from his own fire. The flames took hold quickly and the two intruders were trapped, unable to get out of the room. Their shouts for help enflamed the crowd still further, thinking they were Dilys.

"Burn the witch! Burn the witch!"

Jack turned the corner into Mafeking Terrace and took in the scene. Flames were appearing from the front downstairs window and he could hear screams. Fearing he was too late, he pushed through the crowd using his fists and elbows to make a path to the front door. He did not waste his breath on the mob, battering down the flimsy door and stepping into the room beyond. The furnishings and furniture were alight and the heat was intense as Jack stood getting his bearings. A burning figure erupted from the flames, drawn by the sudden brightness, and Jack sidestepped to allow it through. He knew this was not Dilys, she was much shorter.

"Dilys!" he bellowed above the noise of the fire. "Dilys, it's Jack Harkness. Are you in here?" He took a moment to wrap a handkerchief around his nose and mouth, dousing it in water from a vase of flowers that had not yet been touched by the fire.

"Up here," came faintly to his ears and he charged up the stairs.

"Take Sally," said Dilys when she saw the familiar figure in the flowing coat appear on the tiny landing. She thrust her daughter forward, the child wrapped in a blanket she had pulled from the bed.

Jack took the child automatically. "Wrap yourself up and follow me down," he said, turning to descend the stairs. "Hold onto my coat. If you let go, I won't take Sally out," he warned, recognising that she might well sacrifice herself for the sake of the child. He waited until she had another blanket draped around her and felt her hands grip his shoulders before beginning the perilous descent.

The next few minutes seemed like forever to the young child held in Jack's arms. She could see nothing, the blanket swaddled her totally, but she felt the heat, tasted smoke and heard the flames. She could also feel the man trembling as he tried to get them out of the house that had been their haven from the world but which was now more like hell. The noise and heat intensified and Sally could not breath, coughing uncontrollably, before … air - fresh, clean air.

"I'll take her," said Mrs Pritchard, reaching for the child in the scorched blanket. She had only just returned from her cleaning job and had laid into her neighbours when she'd seen what they had done.

Jack let the child go gratefully and turned to Dilys, pulling her into the street. The blanket was on fire in places but he was relieved to see that the woman was no more than singed where sparks had caught her hair and the bottom of her dress. He patted at the few burning areas and held her as she sat on the kerb coughing up smoke. Around him the men he had summoned from the Castle, the Marquess's workforce, and half a dozen policemen were rounding up the crowd and pushing the ringleaders into a black van. The burned body of a man lay on the cobbles, black and unrecognisable, as the fire engine finally arrived and began pouring water on the flames.

"Mam?" cried Sally.

"She's safe, sweetheart." Mrs Pritchard looked over at Jack and Dilys. "Bring her inside," she said, leading the way into her neat house now that the flames were not likely to spread that far.

Jack pulled the still coughing Dilys to her feet and helped her along. He sat her on an upright chair at the table alongside Sally but when he released her she toppled sideways and would have fallen if he had not caught her.

"Has she fainted?" asked Mrs Pritchard, coming back from the kitchen with glasses of water. "Put her on the settee. No, child, you stay here and drink this," she said to Sally who was trying to get down.

"Want to be with Mam," Sally wailed.

"Not yet, sweetheart, she needs to get some air."

Jack, kneeling beside Dilys, knew it was more serious. Dilys had taken in more smoke than her lungs could cope with and was not breathing. "We need a doctor," he said urgently, looking up at the friendly neighbour, "send one of the men outside to get one."

"Right away." The woman looked down at Dilys and recognised the need immediately. She ran out of the front door.

With Mrs Pritchard's departure, Sally left her chair and ran to her mother's side. The child of a healer, she had seen people in various stages of illness and recognised death. Tears ran down her face, "Mam," she said quietly.

"She's not gone yet, Sally. I have some magic of my own." Jack smiled then leant over and kissed Dilys.

Sally watched amazed as Jack and her mother glowed a soft orange. The air grew still and silent. Then Jack pulled back and her mother coughed, jerking upright and opening her eyes. "Mam!" cried the girl, throwing herself into the woman's arms.

"Careful, don't hurt her," cautioned Jack, reaching to the table and the glass of water sitting there. He was holding it to Dilys' lips when Mrs Pritchard returned with a middle-aged man carrying a doctor's bag.

_The Hub, 2008_

"Dilys was in hospital for a couple of days but she made a full recovery, lived until she was eighty one," concluded Jack. The coffee was long gone and he was leaning back in his chair staring at the wall but seeing that burning house.

"No wonder Sally is grateful," commented Ianto. He enjoyed hearing about Jack's exploits in the past, it brought the time to life as history books never could. "Do you make a habit of bringing people back to life by kissing them?"

"Only those I care about." Jack smiled at Ianto, remembering a time when he had done just that service for the young Welshman.

"Why did you go to the Castle for help?"

"Dilys had helped the Marquess of Bute's son and heir through diphtheria. The Marquess had given her an allowance as a reward, that's how she could live so well. I knew that the Castle steward would help without asking a lot of tomfool questions." Jack put his forearms on the desk. "He gave the pair of them a new house, the one where Sally lives today. It was part of the Bute estate back then."

"I hope that Dai and Gwyn were punished." Ianto stood up, recognising that their chat was coming to an end.

"Gwyn was the man who burned to death, which was quite fitting. Dai was given ten years with hard labour but took the King's shilling when war broke out and went off to fight in France. He was killed at Dunkirk." Jack sighed. "Now that was a real hellhole."

Ianto looked down on his boss and lover and smiled. It seemed that this man had been at all the major events in British history over the past century. If they could get him to talk to students no one would ever again say history was bunk.

* * *


	36. Tell Me

_This is a converation between Ianto and Martha at the time of Reset._

* * *

**Tell Me**

"I want to know, Martha. Please tell me."

"Why? Why is so important?"

"Because … because it's worse not knowing. I imagine all sorts of things."

"Jack should be the one to tell you."

"I've asked him, of course I have. But he just smiles apologetically and looks away. Then he diverts me."

"With dabbling?" Martha smiled.

"Yes." Ianto grinned. "Please, Martha. I know he's hurting and I want to help him."

Silence.

"I don't know all of it, I wasn't with him most of the time. But it started here in Cardiff. The Doctor and I came to refuel the TARDIS."

"That's the blue box thing."

"Yeah. Jack ran up and hung on to it as The Doctor took off."

"He didn't wait for Jack!?" Ianto look astonished.

"No."

"But Jack had been waiting over a hundred years for him, he told me that much. The bastard!"

"Don't make judgements about someone you've never met!" snapped Martha.

"I don't need to have met him to know that!"

Silence.

"Martha, I'm sorry. He's your friend, I shouldn't have said that to you. But how can you defend him?"

"Because I've travelled with him, seen him do impossible things and save whole worlds." Her face glowed at the memory. "He's a hero."

"So's Jack. If it wasn't for him this city, this country, would have been overrun and destroyed. He saved the world from Abaddon."

"I believe it. Don't get me wrong. But he's like that because of The Doctor. He makes us all like that."

"Maybe."

"Do you want me to carry on?"

"Yes. Please."

"The TARDIS tried to get rid of Jack and took us to the end of the universe where only a handful of humans survived. They were trying to get a place called Utopia and The Doctor and Jack helped them." Martha smiled at the memory.

"Did Jack die?"

"Yes. Why?"

Ianto shrugged. "He was different when he got back, like he'd died a few times. Were they bad?"

"Not then."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll explain but let me get on with the story or we'll be here all night!"

"Sorry."

"It's all right, Ianto. I want to tell you in the order that it happened so you'll understand better, that's all. The man, the professor who was in charge … well, he was a Time Lord."

"Like The Doctor? But I thought he was the only one, that's what they always told us at Torchwood One."

"Turns out there was another, The Master. He stole the TARDIS. The Doctor locked the controls so he could only come here, to Earth at the time we left it or to Utopia."

"So you were stuck at the end of the universe? Weren't you frightened?" Ianto watched her carefully.

"Bloody petrified!" She laughed. "But we were being attacked by some humanoids, the Futurekind, at the time so I didn't have time to think about it. The Doctor got us back to Earth using Jack's teleport."

"Teleport? What teleport?"

"The thing he wears on his wrist. It's a teleport."

"I never knew that."

"Anyway, when we got back to Earth we found The Master had become Harold Saxon - "

"The Prime Minister!?"

"Yes. He took my family hostage and when we went to confront him he took us prisoner too. We were on the Valiant when he killed the US president."

"Hang on. Were we – Gwen, Owen Tosh and I – sent to Tibet to get us out of the way?"

Martha nodded. "The Master didn't want you trying to help Jack. Anyway, Jack gave me his teleport and I got off the ship. I spent a year travelling the world while all the people were made to build missiles or were being killed. Jack spent that year being tortured and … killed by The Master. My family were there, they saw what he went through. It was horrible, Ianto."

Silence.

"It was like that for a year? But he was only gone three months." Ianto was appalled and confused.

"At the end of the year, I was captured and taken back to the Valiant. The Doctor's plan worked and he was set free and Jack and my family. When we stopped The Master and restored the TARDIS time was reversed, it was as if that year had never happened."

"So we all lived a year then had it wiped out. But I don't remember it and you do."

"We remembered it because the Valiant was at the eye of the storm. We were the only ones. Sometimes I wish I didn't." Ianto placed his hand over hers and squeezed it.

"And Saxon died."

"His wife shot him. He could have regenerated, like all Time Lords, but he wouldn't. The Doctor burnt his body."

"Good."

"We stayed on the TARDIS, Jack and me, for a bit. We needed some time to … understand what had happened to us. To heal."

"Poor Jack. Was he tied up on the Valiant?"

"Yes, chained to some posts. Why?" She looked at him quizzically.

"That explains why he doesn't … ah, well, it just explains it." Ianto blushed. "And The Doctor couldn't make Jack mortal again."

"No. It can't be reversed."

Silence.

"Thanks for telling me, Martha. I won't say anything to him but I understand now why he's different."

"He's an amazing man, Ianto. You're very lucky to have him."

"I know."

* * *

_Just a short story that's been lying around for a while. Hope you like it._


	37. Aftermath

_I was surprised to discover this story on my PC recently. I wrote it months ago when I still new to Torchwood fandom but I think it reads okay. I have decided to post it now to get your views on it. It is set immediately after Toshiko Sato's death in Exit Wounds._

* * *

**Aftermath**

Captain Jack Harkness looked down at Toshiko's face, its almost serene countenance suggesting that in a moment she would speak to him. But she would not speak again, he knew that, and slowly raised his left hand and closed her eyes. He hugged her close once more and then carefully placed her back against the examination couch.

He looked across the body to Gwen Cooper, who was still sobbing but more quietly than before, then up to Ianto Jones, who looked pale and upset but in control of himself. Finally, Jack's gaze rested on Captain John Hart and he saw unexpected sympathy in his expression. Taking a deep breath, Jack rose and moved to Gwen, helping her to her feet and gently leading her from the medical bay. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he reached a hand to Ianto and felt the younger man's grateful and almost desperate grasp. Together the three remaining members of the Torchwood team in Cardiff moved away from the scene of death and into the Hub proper.

"Gwen," Jack said, looking down as her where she was holding his arm. "I need you to find out what's happening outside. How Cardiff has fared. What the damage is." He saw her stricken look but knew she would come through her grief more quickly if she had something to do, something to think about other than Toshiko and Owen.

'_My God_, _Owen'_ thought Jack, suddenly aware of that second grief that had seemed unreal until this moment. With no body to mourn it had been all too easy to overlook his loss. But Jack realised with an intensity that shook him to the core how much he would miss the slight Londoner with his caustic wit and unsurpassed medical skills. They had had their differences, had butted heads on many occasions most notably when he had led the others into opening the Rift and releasing Abaddon. Through it all Jack had always respected Owen's strongly held views. With a conscious effort, Jack brought his mind back to the present. He could do no more for Owen right now, the time for grieving would come, but not now. He turned back to Gwen who looked ready to argue with him.

"We have to help the people out there," he said gently. "I need to know how things stand. To find out if there is anything we should be doing. And you need to locate Rhys, find out how he is." He hoped his mention of Rhys would be the spur he needed to get Gwen moving again.

"I left him at Police HQ," Gwen whispered, wiping away tears that had gathered, "with Andy. I'll see what I can do." She made to go to her workstation but hesitated. She could not bring herself to use, or even sit close to, Tosh and Owen's stations. She stood, lost.

"Use the boardroom," suggested Ianto quietly, seeing and understanding Gwen's reluctance. He received a grateful glance from her and she made her way through the arch and into the dimly lit corridors.

Jack turned to face Ianto and placed both hands on his shoulders. He was so tempted to pull him close, to hold him and never let him go but now was not the time. "Ianto," he said huskily, "we need this place cleaned up. Can I leave that to you?"

Ianto gulped and nodded. He did not look forward to removing the blood – Toshiko's blood – from the floor and stairs or to tidying up the debris left in her wake as she had made for the medical bay but recognised that the sooner it was done the quicker he would be able to forget. "Of course. I'll get onto it."

Despite Ianto's agreement, Jack was reluctant to let him go and continued to hold him for several minutes, still at arms' length, in silence before saying, "Thank you," and finally releasing him. "I'll see to Toshiko," he said quietly and turned back to the medical bay.

John was still standing where Jack had last seen him and his level gaze met Jack's in silent commiseration. Jack hesitated, remembering how close they had been at one time, back when responsibility was a word neither of them had understood. He had been happy then, in a desperate kind of way, but he would not go back to that time. Despite the terrible events of today he still preferred his present life. He moved towards the head of the stairs and the devastated medical bay. "I can't deal with you now, John. Later."

"I understand," John replied quietly. "I'll see if I can help Gwen." He moved away and Jack was alone.

Jack avoided the blood-covered steps down to the Bay, following the longer route he had taken before and stopped, looking down at Toshiko's body. She was in almost the same position as when he had seen her then but now there was not the merest spark of life. At the foot of the stairs he removed his battered and grimy greatcoat and draped it over the railing. Then he detached his mind as best he could and began his self-appointed task.

The Hub was mostly silent for the next hour or so. In the boardroom, Gwen and John worked the sensors to uncover the state of Cardiff. The picture was horrific but Gwen found that, surprisingly, it was not as bad as she had feared. There had been deaths and massive destruction of property but the damage had been contained within the areas targeted by John's explosions. Others had worked quickly on communications and within forty minutes some telephone coverage had been restored. She was able finally to contact Police HQ and to speak to Rhys. She wept again when she heard his voice but these were healing tears, tears of relief. She arranged for him to come to the Hub as soon as he could; she desperately needed to see and hold him.

Ianto hung his suit jacket on the coat rack and gathered together a mop, bucket of water with disinfectant and the ubiquitous black sacks and began clearing up. He worked carefully but started furthest away from the medical bay and all that it contained. It took him thirty five minutes or so before he was left with only the Bay to clean. He was mopping the floor near its entrance when he was unexpectedly joined by Captain John. Ianto stopped what he was doing and looked at John, somewhat surprised at the absence of his earlier anger at the part John had played in Jack's abduction.

John spoke, his tone low. "He'll need you later," gesturing with his hand towards Jack who was busy in the Bay and out of earshot.

Ianto followed the gesture and looked across to his boss and lover who, on the surface, was calm and in control. How did Jack cope with the losses? How was he strong enough to help others cope? How did he forget his own feelings – Ianto belatedly remembered Gray, Jack's brother, and wondered what had happened to him – and get on with the job? Ianto so wanted to be like Jack who could endure so much but still be a support for others. This awoke a memory and Ianto turned to John. "You said earlier he had been buried alive. Was that true?"

"Yes." John hesitated, then decided that Ianto needed to understand all that had happened to Jack. "Gray ordered me to bring him here, to get Jack alone. I took us back to AD27 to get away, to the place where Cardiff would one day be. Gray found us and made me dig a grave and bury Jack, twenty feet down so he couldn't dig his way out in the times he revived. He was there for nearly two thousand years."

Ianto stared at John, his face ashen. "How can that be?" he whispered, the horror plain in his voice. "Buried alive for two thousand years? No-one could survive that and still be sane."

"Jack's survived worse - but not much worse. He's got the strongest mental reserves of anyone I've ever known," John stated simply and with absolute conviction. "He'll come through this too but though he'll never ask and probably never appear to, he WILL need you." John thought back to the days when he had been the one Jack had turned to and regretted their passing. Jack had moved on, had changed and John recognised – albeit reluctantly – that if he wanted any place in Jack's present life (and he did) he had to start again with him, to earn his trust and find a new role.

"How? How do I help him?" asked Ianto. "What do I do?"

"Stick with him. Hold him when he'll let you. Just be there."

Ianto nodded. It was much the role had taken since joining Torchwood Three nearly two years before, although then he had had an ulterior motive - Lisa. With horrendous clarity he remembered the things he had said to Jack when Lisa had been revived. He had been wrong then and Jack had been right, just as he had been later when Abaddon had been released. On both occasions Ianto had acted selfishly, satisfying his own needs and desires and leaving Jack to sort out the mess and deal with the consequences. And on each occasion there had been no recriminations, no 'I told you so' from Jack, just instant forgiveness. Whatever Jack needed of him now it would not be enough to repay the past. Ianto went back to his cleaning duties, moving into the Medical bay, as John went to look down on Jack.

Jack had been working methodically: placing Toshiko's body on the examination couch; removing her soiled clothing; washing her hair and body; and finally dressing her in one of the short, white hospital gowns. She now looked peaceful and whole, the fatal gunshot wound bound and hidden by the gown and her broken arm placed carefully in alignment so the break could not be seen. Jack had performed this duty for too many people, for too many members of the Torchwood teams over the years. He always hoped never to have to do it again but recognised what a forlorn hope that was. The likelihood of death was high for anyone involved in Torchwood and he would always be the one to survive, to have to pick up the pieces and carry on. It should have become easier but it never did.

"Jack." He looked up and saw John had returned. He had heard Ianto moving around but had been unaware of John. "If it's okay, I'll bunk down in the vaults."

"Sure," Jack said, accepting John's presence in his life for a little longer. He owed him that much for the trick with the ring and for coming back to help. He watched John move away and saw Gwen pass him at the entrance to the bay.

Gwen hesitated. She dreaded seeing Toshiko again but she steeled herself to look at her friend one last time and was relieved to find her body clean and peaceful. "Gwen," said Jack, climbing the stairs towards her, "what's the news?"

"Bad, but not as bad as it could have been. There are about 100 known dead so far and lots of property damage but the city's coping. Communications are coming back gradually. There's nothing we need do. The power station is safe." '_Thanks to Owen_,' she thought, remembering her sometime lover with sadness but not complete regret. Since he had been brought back to life he had not been the same and perhaps this final death was a fitting one.

"Good. Rhys?"

"He's fine," said Gwen, the relief evident in her voice and manner. "He'll be here soon to take me home, if that's okay."

"I'll walk you out." Over his shoulder he called, "Won't be long, Ianto."

He took her hand and walked with her through the now clean Hub to the invisible lift to ground level. They did not speak and Gwen was content to be led by him until they reached the Plass. It was cold, dark and remarkably quiet considering all that happened in the past few hours. They walked across and waited by the Millennium Centre, hand in hand, for a few minutes until they heard an approaching car and picked out the headlights.

Rhys drew up at the kerb, got out of the car and walked towards them. He was still buoyed up from his night with Andy Davidson, rounding up the creatures that had appeared on the streets, and was going to speak but a look from Jack made him hesitate. Jack looked strained and incredibly weary, so different from the confident man, always in control of events that he knew and had helped pull out of the rubble of the bombed building only that afternoon.

"We lost Owen and Tosh tonight," Jack explained to Rhys, not sure if Gwen had mentioned it to him in their telephone conversations. Jack hugged Gwen briefly and kissed her forehead. "Go home, let Rhys look after you for a while." He released her and still with one arm around her helped her towards her waiting husband.

Rhys was shocked. _Owen and Toshiko dead?_ He had driven them in this car only a few hours ago: it was incredible that they were now dead. For the first time the night's events took on a serious and terrible significance. It had not been a movie, it was real. People had died, people he KNEW had died. He clasped Gwen closer to him: he could have lost her, it could have been her that had died. A cold shiver ran up his spine.

"Look after her, Rhys. She means a lot to me."

"I will." Rhys hesitated, then added, "If I can help with anything, let me know."

Jack nodded his acknowledgment of the offer and watched as Rhys turned and helped Gwen into the car and drove away. It was only when the car was well out to sight that Jack took a deep breath, turned and walked back to the Hub. He entered the medical bay and saw Ianto, who had finished clearing up, standing looking down at Toshiko's body. In one hand he had a clip board and a sheaf of papers – even in this terrible extreme you could rely on Ianto to keep the records up to date – the other hand was stroking Toshiko's hair. Jack stood next to Ianto and waited for him to acknowledge his presence.

When Ianto looked up, Jack said, "Let's get her to the morgue."

Together they placed her body in the lift that connected with the morgue then walked down to meet her. Once there, they opened the vacant drawer that Ianto had identified. Idly Jack wondered how it was that he only ever had to use the lowest two rows of drawers – did Ianto re-organise the bodies from time to time to free up these most accessible drawers? He would ask him sometime. Jack lifted the slight body into the designated drawer and carefully arranged her in the body bag Ianto held open. Jack looked down for a final time and bent to kiss her forehead.

Ianto smiled softly and said, "Goodbye, Tosh." He turned and walked away, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Jack sealed the bag and closed the drawer, shutting the door afterwards. Then he followed Ianto to the main level of the Hub. Ianto heard Jack's step and turned to look at him. For the first time Ianto realised quite how dirty Jack was, with earth-encrusted T-shirt and trousers and blood stained shirt. And were those bullet holes in the shirt? He was almost sure they were. So Jack had not just been buried, there had been other horrors too. "You look a mess." Jack looked down at himself and saw the state of his clothes and smelt the accumulated sweat and muck of centuries on his body. So much for his 51st century pheromones now. "Time for a shower," continued Ianto.

Jack nodded and smiled faintly. "You're pretty beat up yourself," he said, taking in Ianto's dust-stained and soiled suit and face. He held out a hand, "Join me."

Ianto placed his hand in Jack's and walked with him to Jack's office and the ladder down to his quarters. Jack descended first and was already undoing his shirt when Ianto reached the bottom of the ladder. Ianto considered helping Jack undress but something told him such an approach would not be welcome, instead he started removing his own clothes.

Once naked, Jack moved to the bathroom and the large shower. He turned on the water, as hot and fierce as he could bear; the flow of water fell hard on his head and shoulders and ran down his body as he stood unmoving beneath. He had been there only a few minutes when Ianto joined him, standing close behind him but not touching. Jack turned and opened his arms and Ianto stepped into them, placing his own arms around Jack. They stood locked together for some time under the fast flowing water, allowing it to wash away the debris – physical and mental – of this horrific day.

Eventually Jack broke the embrace and moved away slightly. He looked Ianto over, noting the purpling bruises and scrapes from where he had been buried under rubble earlier in the day: his left shoulder was swollen, the effect of its dislocation. Taking soap and a sponge, he began gently to wash away the grime that water alone could not remove. When he had finished, Ianto took over and did the same for Jack, marvelling at the way his boss's body repaired itself. There was no trace of his being buried in the rubble, of being shot or of being buried alive. No physical scars at all.

When both men were clean, Jack turned off the shower and taking a large bath towel started to dry Ianto. After a moment, Ianto grabbed another towel and dried Jack. The soft drying movements became strokes and caresses and aroused both men. Eventually, Ianto could stand it no longer and thrust aside both towels, took Jack in his arms and kissed him long and hard. Jack responded and they pleasured each other in ways they had explored and enjoyed in earlier encounters. Breaking away, Jack pulled Ianto out of the bathroom with its hard, cold and unyielding surfaces into the bedroom. He kissed Ianto passionately as he pushed him down on the bed.

Some time later, when their passion had been sated, the pair lay side by side on the bed. Ianto closed his eyes and thought about sleep. He reached a hand to switch off the overhead light.

"No!" snapped Jack, holding Ianto's arm in a painful grip, "leave it on." A pause. "I've had enough of darkness." He released Ianto's arm.

"Okay." Ianto waited, hoping Jack would explain but not really surprised when he said nothing more. "John told us what happened," Ianto was referring to Jack's burial, "it must have been awful."

"I've had better deaths," admitted Jack, his voice light and ironic but Ianto was not deceived. Jack was hurting. "And it wasn't John."

Ianto moved onto his side, propped himself up on one elbow and looked at Jack. He saw the pain in his lover's face and reached a hand to cradle his cheek, stroking it gently. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

Jack looked at Ianto and decided he would not speak of his experience. It was a horror that would join those other horrors he was trying to forget. He had paid his penance for abandoning Gray all those years ago but the guilt would ever leave him. "No. Thanks. I think it's best forgotten."

"If you're sure," replied Ianto. He lay down again and snuggled against Jack.

Jack sighed and placed his arm around Ianto, holding him lightly and welcoming the contact. His original intention in bringing Ianto to his bed had been to comfort the younger man. In Jack's opinion, Ianto contained his feelings too much and only released them in angry emotional outbursts. He had not wanted Ianto to be alone this night. But now Jack admitted that he had also wanted company, someone to hold onto and help him deal with the loss of yet another two team members. "How about you? Do you want to talk?" asked Jack, stroking Ianto's back.

After a moment Ianto said, "I'm not sure. It still seems impossible. Both of them ... gone." A pause. "I thought this morning was bad enough."

Jack tightened his grip on Ianto. "Yeah. Not fair that they survived that only to ... well, to end up as they did."

"Are we sure Owen's ... dead? I mean, are we really sure he didn't get out?" asked Ianto, hoping that maybe they'd been wrong in assuming the worst.

"He's dead, Ianto, for real this time. He couldn't have survived. Tosh was sure, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." He paused, then went on, "I don't know which is worse. Owen dying alone on the other side of the city or Tosh who was so close, only a couple of floors above Gwen and me. I didn't even think she'd be in danger. We should have realised ..." Ianto could not continue.

Jack held Ianto close. He was thinking of the young boy who had grown up alongside him at Boeshane. Gray, his brother, had compelled John to bomb Cardiff; had compromised security at the nuclear power station so that Owen had gone to this death there; had come to the Hub and imprisoned Gwen and Ianto; and had shot Toshiko. Why? Because Jack had failed to look after him when he was a boy. To Jack's mind it was too simple to argue that he, Jack, had been a boy himself. Nothing could take away the guilt that two people – two friends – had died along with many others as a direct result of his thoughtless act all those years ago. It was a guilt he would bear for many long years.

Jack and Ianto stayed close for some time, both men finding comfort in one another's arms. Across the city, Gwen lay in Rhys' arms. She had exhausted herself weeping for her friends and was now deep in sleep. Beside her, Rhys looked down on his still recent bride and said a silent prayer of thanks that she had survived.

* * *

_So, what did you think of it. Any good?_


	38. If You Go Down in the Woods

_A short, whimsical piece set early in the first season._

* * *

**If You Go Down In The Woods**

Gwen Cooper stood stock still behind a massive oak tree. Her eyes, always her most expressive feature, were rounder than ever and her mouth was hanging open showing the gap between her top front teeth. Jack smiled at the sight, ignoring Owen's 'seen it all before' stance and expression. That look of wonder on Gwen's face was what made doing this job for so many years bearable.

"But … but," she stuttered, holding out a trembling hand and pointing into the clearing.

"I know, lovely isn't it?" said Jack, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezing.

"But …" she tried again but the words, whatever they were, remained unsaid.

"Are we going to stand here all day?" said Owen, shifting his medical bag from one hand to the other.

"No. Let's go join them." Jack smiled at his colleagues, that delighted grin that he used when he was going to show them something wonderful. He stepped out of the shelter of the trees and walked forward into the group of aliens. "Hi there, Captain Jack Harkness."

Owen took a couple of steps forward, saw Gwen was still rooted to the spot so grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him. He knew Jack a heck of a lot better that the new girl and in this mood the boss could – usually - be trusted not to lead them into disaster. The pair of them moved fully into view and were soon surrounded by the aliens. They were urged forward to join Jack who was already sitting on the ground in a rough semi-circle with the majority of the aliens.

_This is not happening_, thought Gwen, looking round her with disbelieving eyes. In all her years on the police force nothing like this had ever happened to her. Though in the four weeks since she'd joined Torchwood she'd had a lot of new experiences. Gas sex aliens and ghostly apparitions were perhaps the most dangerous and upsetting but there had been plenty of other lesser experiences that had amazed her equally. Now here was another one.

Jack was chatting to the aliens. He had a facility for languages and no embarrassment if he made mistakes so he was quite happy chatting to every species he met and usually made himself understood. As he talked he accepted the beaker of juice and a small cake, happily eating and drinking as he talked.

Owen looked at his refreshments and smelt them cautiously. Jack never seemed to care what he ate or drank but Owen was not so trusting; too many bad experiences had taught him to be careful. Deciding these were okay, and trusting Jack to warn him if they shouldn't eat or drink, he took a sip of the juice. It had a strange woody flavour but wasn't unpleasant. He nudged Gwen, who was still staring around her in disbelief.

"It's okay to drink it," he told her.

She looked at him then down at the beaker and cake in her hands and wondered how they had got there. "Owen, are you seeing what I'm seeing? They really are …" Again she couldn't get the words out.

"Yep, they really are." He grinned and bit into the cake which tasted of hazelnuts. Owen professed a world-weary, blasé attitude to the creatures Torchwood met in the course of a working day but he was as captivated and/or repulsed as the rest of the team. This encounter may be weird but it wasn't threatening and for that he was grateful.

Two hours later, the aliens packed up and climbed back into their spaceship. The leader stopped at the hatch and waved a paw before disappearing from view. From small portholes in the side furry faces could be seen, smiling and waving at the Torchwood trio. Gwen was enthusiastically returning the waves and continued to do so as the craft lifted off and took to the skies.

"You can stop waving now," Owen reminded her, amused by her child-like response to the encounter. That was one advantage of having a newbie on the team, it reminded him what it had been like to be amazed by each new experience.

"Okay, time we got back," said Jack, rubbing his hands together.

"Will we see them again?" asked Gwen wistfully.

"Maybe. They come reasonably often." He looked at her and smiled. If Owen, after only two years with Torchwood, needed the breath of fresh air Gwen brought, Jack needed it a hell of a lot more after over a century.

"And this is the origin of the song?" she asked, looking back at the skies but the spaceship had disappeared.

"Yep. Shall we?" He gestured to the path down which Owen was already walking, heading for the SUV.

As he and Gwen strolled along Jack started to sing. "If you go down in the woods today -" .

At this point Gwen joined in and they continued walking while singing, " - you're sure of a big surprise. If you go down in the woods today you'd better go in disguise. For ev'ry bear that ever there was will gather there for certain, because today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic."

* * *

_Not sure where this idea came from but I had to get in down._


	39. We Really Should Tell Him

_An idea that came to me and which demanded to be written ... Enjoy._

* * *

**We Really Should Tell Him**

"… and this is Tosh," said Owen, completing the introductions. The doctor was beaming at them all, a rare enough sight to cause Ianto to raise a single eyebrow as he sipped his pint.

"Hello," said Toshiko politely, eyeing the newcomer with suspicion. Tall, leggy blondes were not her favourite kind of people and when they were wearing low cut tops and being ogled by Owen she felt murder stirring in her bruised heart.

"So, you from round here?" asked Gwen, smiling happily. A night out was pretty rare these days and she was enjoying the novelty of sitting in a bar with her mates enjoying a natter. If Owen wanted to bring over a girl to join them it didn't bother her.

"No. London."

The girl smiled, sizing up the three people sharing the table with her. It was clear the dark Japanese woman didn't like her and that the Welsh woman with the gap teeth – surely she could have them fixed - was nosy. She glanced down and saw the engagement ring on her hand and relaxed. These two were no competition. Fending off Owen's wandering hands, she glanced at the dark guy in the corner who was staring off towards the door. Now he was fit, very tasty.

"Ianto used to work in London, didn't you?" said Gwen, looking at him. Honestly, he was acting like some love-sick puppy because Jack hadn't shown up yet. And Toshiko looked as if she'd like to lock this blonde – what was her name again? Oh yes, Linda - in the same cell as Janet the Weevil.

"Did you?" Linda asked. "What part?" She smiled at Ianto, licking her lips seductively but he didn't take a blind bit of notice.

"Docklands," he said shortly, still looking at the door. Jack had promised, he had really promised to come out with them and then he had gone off to meet someone, some contact that just couldn't wait. Ianto thought that contact was probably a blonde too.

"Oh, it's lovely round there, now they've sorted out the mess where that building collapsed."

"Canary Wharf. It was Canary Wharf," said Ianto fiercely, slamming down his beer glass.

"We know, sweetheart," soothed Gwen, putting a hand on his arm and gripping it tightly. "What about you then, Linda? What part are you from? Not that I know much about it, only go to Oxford Street, me." She laughed, trying to act normally when the others were being so uncooperative.

"Notting Hill." Linda decided to give up on the dark guy and stick with Owen, him she could manage without any trouble. She turned a little and leant forward, letting him have a better view down her top.

"Like the film? That Hugh Grant, he's tasty." Gwen grinned and drank some of her gin and tonic, still keeping a firm grip on Ianto. "You like him, don't you, Tosh?"

"He's all right." Toshiko was watching Owen watching Linda and disgust welled up in her. What did she - Toshiko - see him? Why was she so besotted with the wretched man when he could act like this with another woman right in front of her?

"Hey, kids, sorry I'm late." Jack bounded up and stood beside the table, just behind Linda. "Another round?" he asked, rubbing his hands.

"Yes, please," said Gwen, downing her gin. She had earned another one keeping this lot from fighting one another.

"I'll help you," said Ianto, getting up. He hoped to divert Jack's attention from Linda, perhaps get him to sit at another table, not there were many available; it was Friday night and everyone was out on the town. As he stood there he saw Linda twist round and smile up at Jack: too late.

"Hello," grinned Jack, "Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?"

"Linda, this is Linda," said Owen, draping his arm round her shoulders and pulling her close to him. Or trying to.

"Linda, what a pretty name." Jack took her hand and kissed it.

Ianto rolled his eyes as she simpered up at Jack. "Drinks, Jack," he said loudly.

"Yeah, go and get the bloody drinks in, Harkness," snarled Owen.

"Okay, okay." Jack released Linda's hand and leant in close. "Don't go away." She simpered again.

"He's a bit of all right," said Linda, watching the two men walk to the bar. "You work with him?"

"He's our boss," said Toshiko. She felt like adding that he and Ianto were a couple but didn't want to presume on Ianto's friendship. He had told her but probably not Gwen given her track record with Jack and certainly not Owen.

"Wish my boss looked like that." Linda was still watching Jack and Ianto, now side by side leaning on the bar as the barman poured the drinks. "Mind you, I wouldn't get much work done!" Her laugh rang out and Jack looked round at the sound and grinned when he spotted her.

Owen was getting pretty pissed off and decided it had been a stupid idea to bring Linda over to meet the others. He had seen her try it on with Ianto and she was fairly salivating over Jack. He had to get her away. "Linda, how about we make tracks? I've –"

"What!? Don't be daft, gotta wait for our drinks," she laughed, sitting up straighter and glancing over at the bar again. "What do you all do then?"

Owen slumped in his seat and didn't answer. Toshiko smiled at his discomfort even as she tried very hard not to slap the woman for hurting him: love was contrary. Gwen watched the three of them and grinned, this was better than the telly. She was so busy watching she didn't answer Linda either.

"Okay. G&T for Gwen, Spritzer for Tosh, vodka tonic for Owen, pint for Ianto and Campari and soda for the beautiful lady." Jack was back and he pulled up a chair to squeeze in at the small table between Linda and Gwen. "Bottoms up." He raised his glass and drank.

"What that then?" asked Linda, still simpering. She was looking at Jack's tumbler of clear liquid and wondering if he had a drink problem. That much neat vodka or gin would put most people under the table.

"Water."

"Pull the other one. No, really what is it?"

"Try it if you don't believe me." He held out the glass and she took it with a giggle, glancing round the table as she sipped it. "It is water!" she exclaimed.

"Jack doesn't drink," explained Gwen.

"Why not?" She fluttered her eyelashes and gave Jack all her attention, leaning forward so her cleavage nearly landed in his lap.

The two of them flirted and bantered. Toshiko barely listened, she was looking at Owen who was slumped morosely over his drink. Gwen was watching Ianto and wondering why he was so calm; he appeared to enjoy seeing Jack flirt with the girl. Catching Jack's eye, she was surprised when he winked. What plan had those two hatched when they were at the bar?

"What do you all do, then?" asked Linda again. Her hand was resting on Jack's thigh and her shoulder was pressed against his.

"We work for Wales Tourism," answered Gwen before Jack could reply. He would have told this woman the truth, stupid sod that he was, and she didn't want have the palaver of giving her Retcon. "Got an office down in the Bay."

"Oh, sounds … interesting." Linda smiled at them all while remaining glued to Jack.

"Very routine," put in Ianto, exchanging a knowing look with Jack. This was fun, now he knew what was going on.

Jack finished his drink and put the glass down with a noticeable thud on the table. "Time I was off home. Nice to meet you, Linda." He gave her a big smile and a peck on the cheek.

"But … but it's still early," she protested, taken by surprise.

"I need my beauty sleep. Owen here lasts much longer than me." This was said with a knowing leer.

Hearing this, Owen glanced at Jack suspiciously. Why was he boosting him up with the girl? However, when Linda turned her attention away from Jack and back to him, Owen did not hesitate to take advantage. He leant in and started whispering in her ear.

Jack stood up and grinned at them all. "See you in the morning."

"I'll walk with you," said Ianto who had finished his beer. "Good night."

"May as well get going too." Gwen swallowed the last of her drink and grabbed her bag. "Rhys'll be wondering where I am. See you again maybe, Linda."

"Okay." Linda was sorry Jack was leaving but if was not interested Owen would do. She'd allow the doctor to paw her a bit longer then go back to his place like he'd suggested earlier.

Toshiko, suddenly realising she had been abandoned by the others, was on her feet and putting on her jacket. "Wait for me." She pushed the crowd to catch up with them and they exited the pub together.

"All right, Jack Harkness, what's going on?" demanded Gwen as they stood outside, doing up jackets.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently. Ianto sniggered.

"Out with it!" Gwen crossed her arms and stared at him.

"Oh, it's just I recognised our little friend 'Linda'." Jack grinned at the women's expectant faces. "She's really Lieutenant Janice Robertson, one of UNIT's finest."

"So, she's …"

"Yep, trying to winkle her way into our confidence. Get under our skin."

"Into our beds," added Ianto.

"Why?" asked Gwen relaxing her stance.

"Why do UNIT do anything?" Jack shrugged. "Because they hate not knowing everything there is to know. And I've made it a point to keep them out of Torchwood's business."

"But if she's a UNIT spy, why have you left her with Owen?" asked Toshiko, concerned for his safety. "We should go and stop her."

"Why? She only latched onto Owen to get background information on us and even he's not stupid enough to tell her anything." Jack was confident. "Besides, we all know Owen. Once he's had her she'll be dropped quicker than a hot potato."

"We really should tell him," said Gwen reluctantly.

She looked round at the grinning faces of her colleagues and was soon grinning herself. They'd tell him all right – in the morning.

* * *


	40. The Adventures of Snowy

_This is a sort of sequel to A Big Fat Problem, number two in this series of stories._

* * *

**The Adventures of Snowy**

Owen was relaxing with his feet on the desk reading a medical journal. He liked to keep up with developments even though the problems he routinely solved were far more advanced than anything featured. As he flipped over a page he caught sight of Ianto rootling about in the lower level of the Hub and stopped to watch him. The teaboy looked harassed and was obviously searching for something. Minutes passed and still Ianto poked about, gingerly moving items of equipment from a large pile and peering behind it. Owen got to his feet and strolled down the shallow steps to get a closer look.

"What are you doing?" he demanded as he drew near.

Ianto swung round with a start, knocking into the pile. At that moment something small and white flashed from behind the equipment and started off towards the main entrance. "There you are!" exclaimed Ianto and ran after Snowy, the small Adipose. He got it in a two handed grip and picked it up.

"I thought you worked out how to keep him locked up," laughed Owen. The Adipose had managed to escape from the cells on a number of occasions in the past couple of days.

Ianto threw a dirty look in the doctor's direction. "Believe me, I thought I had. I'm thinking of changing his name to Houdini."

"It can't do any harm, why not let him run around?"

"Snowy could hurt himself. And anyway, you still haven't managed to find out much about him and his lifecycle. What if he develops into something dangerous?" Ianto was idly stroking the wriggling body in his hands. He knew it was composed of human fat but it was still cute and needed to be looked after.

"I could run some more tests. Take a few samples." Owen was bored and would quite like something to occupy his time.

Ianto looked at the doctor warily. "Samples of what? I'm not letting you cut him up."

Owen sighed, he'd been looking forward to slicing into the small creature. "You spoil all my fun." Turning, he went back to his desk and his journal.

Looking after the doctor with narrowed eyes, Ianto debated with himself. Snowy had been in their custody for three days. All the others of his kind had been beamed up to spaceships over London and no others had been found in the Cardiff area. Ianto felt sorry for this lone survivor, stuck on a planet alone and incarcerated in the Hub. Jack and the others had lost interest and it was left to Ianto to look after Snowy which was proving difficult. The Adipose was curious. It liked to investigate nooks and crannies and being so small it could get into just about everything. Ianto had no idea what its normal habitat was and had tried a number of alternatives in one of the cells to keep the creature amused but nothing had held its attention for long. Snowy also didn't eat any of the foods Ianto had given it, just drinking water occasionally. The little thing was a mystery no one was making any attempt to solve. They needed to know more about the creature and at least Owen had offered to do something.

"All right, you can examine him. But I'm staying to make sure you don't slice him up."

The two men and the Adipose went to the medical bay and stayed there for the next hour. Owen ran various tests and took a small tissue sample – or the closest Snowy had to tissue – for further analysis. At the end of the examination, Owen said, "How about I fit him with a tracker? That way you'll be able to find him when he gets out."

"Please." Ianto held the little blob of a body still and Owen injected a tracker chip under the skin. "It's all right, Snowy, it won't hurt," soothed Ianto.

"Bleeding hell, the thing hasn't got any nerves! It can't feel pain," said the doctor, looking at his colleague with disgust. "It's just a ball of fat."

"I don't care."

With the examination over and leaving Owen to monitor the tests, the Welshman returned to the cells with his little prisoner. "In you go, Snowy," he said as he placed the creature in the cell, "and stay put." Ianto closed the cell door and locked it.

Later that day, Jack looked up from his desk where he was doing nothing much. The Rift had been quiet for a while and he was getting bored. Gwen and Toshiko were both off for the day and Owen was pottering about in the medical bay. Jack spotted Ianto and smiled, he liked seeing the man move around the Hub efficiently carrying out his duties. He settled back in his chair for a spot of Ianto-watching and was rewarded with a view of Ianto bending over and peering underneath Gwen's desk. Jack licked his lips and sat forward for a better view. That arse was something special and the way the suit trousers pulled so delightfully … Jack realised his own trousers were getting tight and hastily rearranged himself under cover of his desk. Ianto had now disappeared underneath the desk and the only thing visible – when Jack stood up – was the said arse wriggling about. Jack sauntered out to stand by the desk never taking his eyes off the only part of Ianto that he could see.

"Oh no," wailed Ianto, seeing the shiny tracker chip lying under Gwen's footrest. He edged backwards out from under the desk.

"Whatever you're doing, could you come do it under my desk?" asked Jack innocently. He was standing leaning on the desk and smirking.

"I may have to," muttered Ianto, getting to his feet. "Snowy's loose again."

"The Adipose? Thought you'd fitted it with a … Ah." He saw the tracker chip in Ianto's outstretched hand. "How did he lose it?"

"I don't know." Ianto sat down in Gwen's chair, defeated. "I give up. He'll just have to wander around and if he gets hurt, so be it."

"He'll be all right," said Jack laying a reassuring hand on Ianto's shoulder. "But I really think you should look under my desk." He smiled encouragingly.

Ianto heaved a huge sigh then smiled. "Owen's still here."

"I'll tell him to go home."

Jack pushed up from his perch on the desk and walked off. He was thinking of various things they could do with Ianto on his knees when he slipped and went down on his arse with a thud that shook the Hub. Ianto had seen Jack fall and stifled a laugh before going to check on him.

Owen cautiously poked his head out of the medical bay. "What the bleeding hell was that?" He saw Jack on the floor and roared with laughter. "You need to lose weight, mate. You almost brought the Hub down!"

Ianto joined in the laughter even as he reached a hand to Jack who was lying winded on the floor between his office and Owen's desk. It was strangely satisfying to see their fearless leader do something as idiotic as trip and fall. Jack grasped Ianto's hand and used it to regain his feet, catching his breath after his unexpected landing.

"All right, you can quit laughing," he told his colleagues who were still chuckling.

"What did you fall over?" asked Ianto, looking around but seeing nothing.

"I didn't, I slipped." Jack rolled his left shoulder and rubbed his behind. "That hurt."

Owen had come closer and was peering at the floor. He ran a foot over a slimy trail. "Looks like grease or something. Your housekeeping's getting worse, teaboy."

"I swabbed this down this morning. Were you two throwing pizza around again?" he asked, looking from one to the other. Both were known to play with their food.

"We had Indian today," pointed out Jack.

"Oh." Ianto frowned and he considered what could have caused the grease spill. He idly twirled the thin, inch long tracker in his fingers and then went very still. He opened his hand and looked at it. "Oh no."

"What?" asked Owen, who had half turned to go back to the medical bay.

"Snowy." He held up the tracker. "This had come out. Maybe he … melted." He looked back at the greasy mark.

"Fascinating," mused Owen, coming back to look with interest at the stain. "I'll get a sample." He was off to the medical bay, delighted to have a mystery to solve.

Jack, recovered now, watched Ianto. The younger man had grown fond of the Adipose and if it had … dissolved he could well be upset. "Ianto, it may not be him."

"What else could it be?" Ianto's expression when he looked at Jack was bereft.

"Lots of things." He ran a hand down Ianto's arm and watched as Owen returned to scrape up a sample of the stain. "Let's see what Owen finds." He was pleased when Ianto nodded and followed the doctor to the medical bay.

The three men stood waiting for the results of the analysis. In five minutes the machine pinged and Owen opened up a screen. "Umm, basically fat. Looks like Snowy's a goner." Owen glanced round and was surprised to see Ianto already walking off.

"Sure?" asked Jack, arms folded across his chest.

"As I can be. One ball of fat's pretty much like another." He shrugged, not bothered by the loss of the creature.

Jack nodded and went after Ianto, catching up with him and pulling him into the office. He muttered soothingly and held him as the Welshman grieved for the loss of his charge.

High above them, Myfanwy was poking at the creature that had crawled into her nest. It smelt like food but there was something … wrong. She grudgingly allowed Snowy to burrow into the moss lining of the nest, glad to have company in this strange environment.

* * *

_Ah, bet you thought that was the end of Snowy too ..._


	41. The Hills Are Alive

_This is set after Ghost Machine in the first series. Something strange happens to Jack at the theatre ..._

* * *

**The Hills Are Alive**

Gwen's mobile rang during the team's briefing meeting and she received an angry glare from Toshiko who was speaking at the time, in the middle of a long and involved description of her latest pet project. As only Jack could follow what she was saying, Owen and Ianto welcomed the interruption and sat up straighter as they watched Gwen burrow in her pocket to find the offending mobile.

"Can't that blessed boyfriend of yours leave you alone for five minutes?" complained Owen, feeling a show of irritation was called for.

"Sorry," she muttered, finally locating it and checking the display. For once it wasn't Rhys. She didn't recognise the number. "Better just check this." She got up and went out of the door so as not to disturb the others any more than she had already.

"Look, Tosh, why don't you and I go through this later?" suggested Jack, gesturing to the screen and the papers on the table.

He was aware of how the others were feeling and, for once, he didn't want the pleasure of seeing Owen and Gwen squirm as he insisted they sit through it. Ianto never squirmed, he appeared to be listening politely but – Jack was convinced – was actually taking inventory of the Tourist Office or planning a reorganisation of the archives. They were all more antsy than usual as it had been quiet after the encounter with the Quantum Transducer or Ghost Machine. They needed a break from one another or an alien to catch.

"Thank gawd," came from Owen, slumping back in his chair, "thought I was going to be bored to death!"

"We all had to sit through your stuff on the Weevils," retorted Toshiko, angry at the dismissive tone in Owen's voice.

"At least that was interesting!"

The argument might have continued but Gwen returned to the room and her face said she had news. "What is it, Gwen?" asked Jack.

"That was Geoff, a contact of mine from my police days. He works at the New Theatre, caretaker. Says there's someone – or something – in the basement." She sat down as she spoke.

"Police business," pronounced Owen, dismissively.

"They've already looked into it and dismissed it as a prank. But Geoff reckons there's more to it and he's no fool. He says some of the backstage guys have seen monsters down there. I think there may be something in it."

Jack beamed at her, this was just what they needed to keep boredom at bay. It would do them all good to get out and stop griping at one another. "Let's investigate. Owen, Gwen, you're with me. Tosh, see if there's been any Rift activity in the area."

They all snapped into action and were out of the Boardroom in double quick time. Ianto sighed and collected the abandoned coffee mugs, leaving Toshiko's papers for her to sort out later. If those three were out for a while, he thought, he should be able to get downstairs to check on Lisa.

The SUV travelled fast through the city and arrived in the Boulevard de Nantes with a flourish. After parking, Jack led the others towards the theatre where a man awaited them on the steps. They had agreed a plan of action in the car: Jack and Gwen would talk to Geoff while Owen would take scans of the building and liaised with Toshiko who had already discovered some faint alien energy readings from the vicinity.

"Hiya, Gwen, thanks for coming." Geoff smiled at her and eyed Jack up and down. "Who's this then?"

"Captain Jack Harkness. Gwen works for me now, said you had a problem." Jack gave the man one of his trademark grins as he shook his hand. "Monsters in the basement, that right? Different to bats in the belfry anyway!"

Gwen rolled her eyes and took over the conversation. "Tell us again what's been happening."

"Right. Okay." Geoff gave Jack one last bemused look and turned back to Gwen. "We use the basement to keep props and costumes and such, stuff not being used right now. Usually we're in and out most days, getting things, like, but we'd not been down for a week. This lot," he gestured to the poster behind him, "they bring all their own stuff."

Jack had been reading the poster as Geoff spoke, a smile on his face. The Women's Institute production of _The Sound of Music_; that, he thought, should be a hoot. "So what did you find when you did go down there?" he asked.

"Me? Nothing. But Terry and Mike, and then Idris, they all reckon there's something down there. Living behind the costume trunks. Making noises."

"You said the police had taken a look and couldn't find anything," prompted Gwen, keen to get inside and look around.

"Huh, that lot!" Geoff suddenly looked embarrassed. "Oh, sorry, Gwen. Forgot, you work for them."

"Not any more," supplied Jack brightly.

"I'm Special Ops now," she said quickly, anxious to forestall Jack. "Affiliated. Anyway, they didn't find anything."

"Barely looked. Some kids they were, looked like they should be in school. Were only here five minutes and said it was all clear. And it's not. Still got strange noises, haven't we?."

"I'm picking up something," said Owen, walking back to meet them. "Tosh says it may have started six days ago."

"Okay, kids, let's go see what we can find." He bounded up the steps and pushed open the doors.

The others took a moment to realise he was on the move, then scrambled after him. Gwen saw a swirl of coat-tails disappear through the door into the auditorium and ran after him, Owen on her heels. Geoff puffed along behind them, at sixty seven and after a hip replacement he couldn't move that fast. When he entered the auditorium he found the three Torchwood operatives together, halfway down the aisle. Owen was scanning the space and talking to Toshiko, comparing and analysing the readings.

"Okay, Geoff," said Jack, twirling round, "how do we get to the basement?"

"This way." He led them onto the stage which was adorned with alpine scenery for the opening scene of the show. Jack couldn't resist flinging his arms out and twirling on the spot, opening his mouth to sing ..

"Not now, Harkness," said Owen, pre-empting the performance. "You can play Julie Andrews WHEN we've got whatever it is that's in the basement."

Jack shut his mouth and let his arms fall to his side. "You're right. Should really be _Phantom of the Opera_ anyway." He grinned as he followed the others into the wings and backstage to a door in a blank concrete wall.

"Here." Geoff made no attempt to open the door or go with them, he just pressed a light switch and stepped aside.

"That's right, mate, you stay here," said Owen, opening the door. Beyond was a flight of concrete steps down, lit by bare bulbs. "It's getting stronger, Jack," he said as he started down.

Jack followed him but Gwen stopped for a word with Geoff before following. "Don't come down. If we need you, we'll call." Then she was running down the steps to catch up with her colleagues.

"What do you make of it, Tosh?" asked Jack. He was standing with Owen in the middle of the basement. They were surrounded on all sides by the detritus of theatre life stacked ready for use in some future production. Elegant drawing room tables vied with a hideous sixties sofa and chairs of all sorts filled up all the nooks and crannies. The large costume trunks were balanced one on top of another along one wall.

"_Definitely an alien reading," _she said through the comms. _"As I told Owen, there was a Rift opening, a very small one, six days ago. Too small for us to notice. It's not clear if anything came through." _

"Well, we're about to find out. Owen, anything?"

"It's strongest over this way." He nodded towards the arrayed costume trunks.

"Okay, Ms Cooper, time to shift." With a grin he went to one end of a trunk and, when she was in position, they lifted it and pulled it into the centre of the room. They had moved four more – luckily not heavy ones – when they all heard moaning. "That you, Owen?" asked Jack, sticking his head round the piled trunks to see his colleague.

"Ha-ha. It's coming from the corner." He took a couple of steps forwards and … "Yow!" With no warning, he was pushed backwards and fell awkwardly across one trunk and into a stack of three chairs. He went down with a clatter, the scanner flying out of his hands to land in the shadows.

"Gwen, go right! Did you shut the door?" Jack was moving left, round Owen's prostrate form, his Webley in his hand.

"I … I think so," she answered, not sure that she had. She was cursing herself silently, the last thing she needed was another balls-up; the gas sex-alien had been enough.

"I'll check," put in Owen, groaning as he got to his feet and holding his side. He reckoned he had a couple of broken ribs. "Can't trust the newbie to get anything right," he added caustically. He hobbled off to the steps.

"Stay back, Owen, and cover us."

Jack was focussed on the task at hand. He took a few more steps forward, searching for signs of an alien presence with his wrist-strap controls. Getting a contact, he waved Gwen a little more to her left and pointed behind three trunks that separated them. Taking another step, he eased round the corner and risked a peek. Gwen's head popped into his view as she came round from the other side.

"Hello, little one," crooned Jack, re-holstering his Webley and crouching down. "Come to Uncle Jack." He held out a hand invitingly towards the small creature huddled under a chair. "You'll be safe with me."

"What is it?" asked Gwen in a whisper. The shadows made it hard for her to get a clear view and until she knew for sure that it was safe she kept her Glock in her hands.

"A Dwelk. A very frightened one so stay back and don't make any sudden moves." Jack kept his voice low and soothing, easing forward towards the creature. "Come on, little one, come here." Gently he reached forward and caught hold of the creature, pulling him into the light.

"Oh, he's cute." Gwen smiled as Jack carefully lifted the Dwelk into his arms and cradled it like a baby. "Looks just like you, dad," she joked.

"Here, take him. I'll check, see if there are any more."

He passed the blue and green creature to Gwen who stroked it and made cooing noises to keep it calm. It was a round mass of fur with big eyes, stubby arms and legs and a long tail which swished around. Jack swept the area with the wrist-strap, locating the scanner Owen had dropped and two more Dwelk. He picked them up and moved back into the light with one in each arm.

"Bleeding hell, this is turning into a maternity ward." Owen painfully pushed himself to his feet and looked askance at his colleagues. "That the lot?"

"Yeah," replied Jack, hefting his double armful. "Gwen, keep yours calm or it'll be off again. Owen, you okay?"

"Yeah, bruised me ribs when these rushed me." He turned to go up the steps, keeping one hand to his left side. At the top of the steps he found Geoff waiting anxiously.

"Anything?" asked the caretaker.

"Yeah, you had squatters." Owen walked past the old man and through to the stage, not pausing to explain.

Gwen had heard the exchange and sighed; when would Owen or any of her new colleagues learn that politeness cost nothing and would prevent a lot of unwelcome questions. "Just some ... bushbabies, Geoff. Must have got lose from somewhere. We'll take care of them." She had her Dwelk partly hidden by her jacket and hoped the man wouldn't look too closely.

"It's safe down there, then?" he pressed.

"All clear, Geoff," assured Jack in his breezy way. He was making no attempt to his hide his two Dwelk and grinned like a proud father of twins. Gwen groaned and her shoulders slumped; there was no taming him.

"What …" Geoff had been going to ask more but decided against it. The mystery was solved and he could tell the men that it was safe to go down into the basement again. That was all that mattered, he didn't need to know any more. "Okay, thanks," he said finally.

Gwen followed Jack onto the stage. Owen was already halfway down the aisle between the seats, shoulders hunched and back to them. Jack hesitated as he saw again the alpine scenery so lovingly if not very expertly painted for the current production. Snow capped peaks surrounded a green meadow dotted with white flowers. Jack knew he should carry on walking, that it was better to stay calm and quiet for the Dwelk but he was here in fairytale Austria and he couldn't resist. He flung his arms wide, twirled round to face to the non-existent audience and belted out, "The hills are alive …"

At that moment the two Dwelk in his arms shot three feet in the air, screeched and hightailed it to the sides of the stage. Gwen clung desperately to her charge but it too had been spooked and after a tussle it was off after the others. Owen had spun round and was staring in disbelief while Gwen stood open mouthed and furious.

Jack continued to sing, oblivious of the chaos he had caused. "… with the sound of music, with songs they have sung for a thousand years. The hills fill my heart with the sound of music, my heart wants to sing every song it hears."

It took the three of them two hours to find and recapture the Dwelk and Jack was entirely unrepentant.

* * *


	42. Trouble Cubed

**Trouble Cubed**

Number One

On this wet and windy October evening, Toshiko was at the Hub examining some of the items that were on the shelves in Jack's office. He had put them there two days before after confiscating them from boys who had been playing with them in the Plass. Jack had been in a rush at the time, on the run between Rift openings which had them all charging about Cardiff like mad things, or he would have passed them to Toshiko for examination. Of course, if Ianto had been at work he would have tidied the shelves and passed them to her anyway but he was resting at home, recovering from the Occlusii poison he had inadvertently ingested. She settled down to a couple of hours quiet contemplation of the three items. She scanned and examined them and categorised two quite easily but the third eluded her.

She put this to one side and went to the kitchen to heat up the pizza left from lunch and grab a beer. The break might give her inspiration. As she ate, a smile played about her lips as she noted the time: 9.23. Jack had been gone nearly two hours when he'd promised her he'd only be thirty minutes. He had gone to check on Ianto and she was not surprised he had lingered. She didn't begrudge him the opportunity, he had been worrying about Ianto for the past couple of days although Owen had assured him the Welshman was in no danger. They had all been frantically busy and needed a chance to recover. Rising, she took the empty bottle to the kitchen, rinsed the plate that had the pizza on it and put the bottle in the box for recycling. She heard her mobile ringing and scurried back to her desk. Rummaging in her bag, under the desk, she couldn't find the phone then patted the desk down until she located it under a pile of papers. She flipped it open. "Hello."

"_Tosh, there are Hoix loose in the bus station. The others are on their way but I need you too. Grab a couple of kits and meet us here, fast." _

"Okay. On my way." The line went dead.

Toshiko put her jacket on and grabbed the sedation kits and her Glock. She was on the invisible lift before she had time to wonder how Jack knew about the Hoix when she didn't; how had he got the alarm? Putting that to one side, she tapped her foot impatiently as the lift slowly thrust upwards to the surface. When it reached the top, she leapt off almost into the arms of a passing pedestrian scaring him and his mate. Giving them no heed, she hared off to her car and drove frantically through the streets to the bus station.

Running in the entrance she slowed her headlong flight. The place was lit up and people were waiting, more or less in line, to catch the buses that were coming into the stands. There was no sign of panic and no sign of Hoix and no sign of Jack and the others. She stood there for a few minutes and watched the orderly scene before an official wandered up to her.

"Can I help you?" he asked, hand on his walkie-talkie in case this was a nutter and he'd need to call for help.

"Torchwood," she said, looking at him expectantly.

He shook his head and eased the walkie-talkie out of his pocket. "Never heard of it. Where's that then?"

It took her ten minutes to talk her way out of the situation and she left behind her a number of confused officials. She was mad. What was Jack playing at!? Back in her car, she speed dialled him and gave him a piece of her mind.

Number Two

Owen had his hand up Melanie's skirt – or was it Melissa? No matter, she was attractive, blonde and willing and his investment in a couple of bottles of wine and a takeaway was paying off. The last thing he needed was for his mobile to ring at just that moment. For several seconds he contemplated ignoring it but they had had a hell of a few days and with Ianto out sick they were short of people to respond to alerts.

"Sorry, gotta get that," he muttered, raising his head from her breast, and reaching for the phone. "What!?"

"_Emergency at St Helen's Hospital. Looks like chronoradiation. I need your help. Get your butt over here now." _

"Shit, Jack," he began but the connection was cut off and all he got was dead noise. "Sorry, love, I've gotta go into work. 'Nother time, yeah?"

"I suppose," grumbled Melanie/Melissa, doing up her blouse and pulling her skirt down. "I don't like being messed about like this," she continued reaching for her shoes.

"Me neither. Look, I'll call you a cab."

Ten minutes later, Owen drew up outside the hospital, having left the girl outside his place waiting for the cab and driven like a lunatic to get across the city. He was surprised that the SUV was not parked across the entrance – Jack's usual spot – and hurried into A&E pushing through the people waiting there to get to the Reception desk.

"Torchwood." He flashed his ID, hoping it was the right one; he had so many he'd been using the one that proclaimed him a registered collector for Guide Dogs for the Blind for a week before someone had noticed. "Where's the patient?"

"What? Who are you? You can't just barge your way in here, you know." The guy behind the desk was so camp he made Julian Clarey look straight but he was big and in no mood to be messed with.

Half an hour later, Owen stormed out of the hospital and into his car. He pushed the accelerator to the floor and roared out of the car park on his way to Ianto's place. His mood was foul and Jack Harkness was set to get even more of a mouthful than he'd already got on the phone.

Number Three

Rhys grunted and his head lolled against Gwen's shoulder.

They had eaten supper – chicken and rice – and were settled in front of the television. The programmes were lousy as always, not that Gwen found much worth watching; she missed too many episodes to make serials viable and even though Rhys recorded them for her she never had a chance to watch. This night they had settled to watch a DVD, an old favourite of them both, _Gladiator_. Rhys liked the action and she liked the men in short skirts. Halfway into the movie, with Russell Crowe despatching rival gladiators in an arena, Rhys was asleep and drooling.

Her mobile went off and she reached for it, dislodging Rhys' head. He fell forward, waking himself up and exclaiming at the same time, "Watch it, love." He wiped his wet chin.

"What is it, Jack?" she said into the mobile, throwing an apologetic look at Rhys. She spotted the drool on her top at the same time.

"_I need you at City Hall now. There are a dozen Weevils loose all over the place and I can't contain them on my own. Get here as soon as you can."_

"Okay." She closed the phone and stood up, on the move already. "Gotta go, sweetheart. Jack needs me." Putting the phone in her bag, she grabbed her jacket and keys.

"He always bloody needs you," grumbled Rhys from the sofa. "You never move this fast for me."

"Oh I don't know, what about last night?" Her voice had dropped to a sexy drawl.

"Oh yeah." A silly grin replaced his frown and he accepted her kiss as she passed on her way to the door. "Go careful."

"I will."

She ran down the stairs and jumped into the car, pleased no one had blocked her in. As she drove, she wondered what had brought the Weevils to the surface in such numbers. They were usually found in twos or threes. Parking the car carelessly in the Boulevard de Nantes, she raced to the main doors surprised not to see police in attendance or the SUV. She banged on the doors and finally a security guard came to see what she wanted.

"Where's the fire, love?" he asked, peering out of a slit in the door.

It took her twenty minutes to discover there was no emergency and no Jack in the building and to talk her way out again. She was fuming as she stalked to her car; she and Rhys got very few evenings together and she did not appreciate being dragged away on a fool's errand. Driving to Ianto's flat, she let rip at Jack on the mobile not caring that she was breaking the law by holding it to her ear.

Number Four

Ianto's flat was not as tidy as usual. He had been home for forty eight hours straight, longer than at any other time for the past six months, and it looked like it. Mugs and plates were on the coffee table containing the remnants of his last meal; a blanket and pillow were on a chair where he had been dozing; CDs and DVDs were ranged around the place, abandoned after being used. The man himself was on the couch, head on Jack's shoulder and eyes closed. The Occlusii poison was still working its way out of his system and he felt like death warmed up.

Tightening his grip on Ianto, Jack rested his cheek on the top of the other man's head and smiled. Ianto was getting better and was not in any danger. Another couple of days and he would back to full health and back at work. Jack wanted this but at the same time he had enjoyed seeing the Welshman weak and vulnerable; he had liked caring for him, as much as his hectic work schedule had allowed. That was why he had stayed here much longer than planned, grateful for a chance to rest and to comfort the sick man.

He was wondering if Ianto had fallen asleep when the man's mobile rang. It was on the side table and Jack reached across awkwardly, trying to get to it before it disturbed Ianto.

"Put it on speaker," came from a sleepy Ianto.

"Thought you were asleep," smiled Jack, finally getting hold of the mobile and, not bothering to look at the display, pressed the correct button.

"Jones," said Ianto.

"_There's an energy surge near Turnmill, something came through the Rift almost on top of it. We're on our way but I'm going to need you too." _

Ianto sat up suddenly, looked at the phone resting in Jack's hand and then at Jack's face. "Are you a ventriloquist?"

Jack was staring at the phone too. That had been his voice on the phone but it was clear he had not made the call. "What's going on?"

His own mobile rang then and he fielded calls from Owen, Gwen and Toshiko in the space of the next couple of minutes. All of them were too angry to listen to him or to explain fully but he understood they were on their way to have it out with him face to face.

Explanations

The hammering on the door did not help Ianto's thumping headache. He groaned and closed his eyes.

"Sorry." Jack put a hand on the young man's shoulder as he strode past to answer the door. "What happened?" he demanded when he saw Owen standing in the hallway.

"You know what fucking happened!" said the doctor, pushing his way into the flat. "If this is your idea of a joke, Harkness, you're dead meat."

"Keep your voice down," hissed Jack, starting to close the front door, "Ianto needs peace and quiet."

"You bastard!" stormed Gwen coming up to the front door and pushing it open again. "Just had to ruin my evening, didn't you?!" She joined Owen standing in the middle of the living room.

Jack checked the hallway for any more angry team members, saw none and closed the door with finality before joining them. "Quiet!" he said forcefully but not loudly. It silenced the other two who were muttering volubly. Crossing the room, he knelt in front of Ianto who was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. "Take another of these," he said quietly, opening a packet and holding out a painkiller.

"Thanks." Ianto took the pill and washed it down with a swig of water.

"Now, something weird just happened to Ianto's phone. What happened to yours?" Jack asked Owen and Gwen who had the grace to look sheepish for having distressed Ianto.

"As if you don't know." Owen was still angry at losing his date for the night. "Getting me out on a wild goose chase on the first night off I've had in a week."

"He's right, Jack. It's not fair. I hardly get to see Rhys as it is without you playing silly buggers," added Gwen, as angry as her colleague.

"This has nothing to do with me - " Jack broke off when there was a ring on the doorbell. "Toshiko," he said and went to open the door.

"I was nearly arrested thanks to you, Jack," she said immediately and stalked into the room. She stopped abruptly when she saw the others there before her. "What's going on?"

"That is what we need to find out. Ianto just got a call from me which I certainly didn't make. I'm thinking that maybe you three got one too." He looked at them expectantly.

"Yeah. Told me to go to the hospital," answered Owen. His voice was more reasonable now but he was still angry.

"Not me, Owen. Gwen?"

"City Hall, was lucky not to held by the security guard," added Gwen.

"Mine was the bus station," put in Toshiko.

"And Ianto was told to go to Turnmill." Jack looked at all three of them. "I assure you, I did not make those calls. I've been with Ianto for the past couple of hours."

"He didn't call anyone," confirmed Ianto.

"But whoever did sent us running round the city like silly buggers," announced Owen, crossing his arms. "I'm still not convinced it wasn't you." He glared at Jack.

"How could they do that? I mean, that really sounded like Jack," said Toshiko thoughtfully.

"There's something you're overlooking," said Ianto, sounding very weary. The Occlusii poison made him feel like he had a bad case of flu and it was hard to keep his eyes open. "Whoever it was got you all out of the Hub."

"Damn!" Jack grabbed his boots and started putting them on. "We have to get back there."

"It was quiet when I left," volunteered Toshiko. She was mentally kicking herself for not checking more thoroughly before leaving in such a rush.

Now on his feet, Jack reached for his greatcoat. "That's no indication. Ianto, you stay -"

"I'm coming with you," said the Welshman, getting up unsteadily. "We need to stick together, before we're sent on more fictitious errands."

"I'll keep an eye on him," volunteered Owen, put out a hand to steady the Welshman. "He can come with me."

"Okay, you two take your time. Gwen, Tosh, with me."

Jack led the way out of the flat with the women, clattering down the stairs as fast as was safe. At the bottom they all three piled into their vehicles and took off with a squeal of rubber, the SUV in the lead. Five minutes later, when Ianto had got his outside clothes on and managed to get down the stairs, Owen and he emerged slowly from the front door and walked to his car. They followed the others at a more sedate pace.

The Culprit

Gwen checked Toshiko was behind her then opened the cog door. The alarms sounded and the red light flashed on and off as she edged her way inside the Hub, gun held out in front of her. The place seemed quiet and unoccupied but looks could be deceiving. The noise of the invisible lift descending drew her gaze and she saw Jack crouched on the slab scanning the Hub below him. Toshiko moved up beside Gwen and the two women fanned out to check the entry level.

Jack jumped off the lift and sprinted across to join them, finger to his lips to maintain silence. Then he took the steps up to the work area two at a time, looking all ways for intruders. Gwen was on his heels and went round him to check the office while Jack looked down into the medical bay.

"It's clear," said Gwen quietly.

"This too," agreed Jack. He lowered his Webley but kept it in his hand. "Tosh?"

Toshiko had gone to her desk and had brought up the CCTV and scanners, flicking through them quickly. "Nothing unexpected in the Hub," she said after a moment. "And nothing's been here either." She looked over her shoulder at Jack. "It's clear."

Gwen sat at Owen's desk, her Glock still in her hand and resting on her thigh. "So that's not why we were sent all over the city," she said.

"No." Jack stood motionless, thinking through the events of the night. "Gwen, what exactly was the message you received?"

"I don't remember exactly. Something about Weevils in City Hall, dozens of them, and that you needed my help. I remember thinking it was odd that so many Weevils were above ground."

"And Tosh, what was yours?"

"That there were Hoix in the bus station and you needed me to bring the sedation kit," she answered. She had turned her chair around and was looking at him intently. "Does that mean anything?"

"I kinda remember there being a nest of Weevils in City Hall and Hoix in the bus station, but not recently," he said slowly, trying to latch onto elusive memories.

Toshiko had turned back to her PC and was typing furiously. "There was an incident at City Hall, in 1984."

"What?" queried Gwen.

"The bus station Hoix was in 2001. Where was Owen sent?" she asked without turning round.

"St Helen's Hospital," supplied Jack. "Someone has got access to old mission details and used them to call us up."

"But none of us was around when they happened, well, except you, Jack. You sure you didn't do this?" She fixed him with a look.

"Positive."

"The hospital one was in 1996," said Toshiko swinging round in her chair once more. As she did so, she dislodged some papers and they fell to the floor. "Damn!" She bent to retrieve them.

"Hold it!" ordered Jack, putting his Webley in its holster and taking a pace to stand right by the desk. "What's that?" The women followed his gaze and saw a small cube on the desk, a slender wire linked it to Toshiko's PC.

"It's … it's one of the artefacts I was examining," said Toshiko, never taking her eyes from it. "But I didn't link it to the computer."

The door alarms sounded at that moment and Owen and Ianto walked in. Ianto looked pale but he was walking unaided and managed the steps without too much effort. Gwen put her Glock in her pocket and went to his side. With a hand under his arm she guided him to the sofa, filling him in on what was happening.

Owen had stopped by the desk, looking at the innocuous cube. "What the hell's that?" he asked.

"A box of tricks," said Jack slowly, crouched down so that the desk was at eye-level and viewing the cube from all angles. "Don't think it's got a name."

"What does it do? And why?" asked Toshiko warily from her chair.

"It's literally a box of tricks, a toy. Something to keep kids amused. Used all over the galaxy but …" He tentatively reached out to the cube and ran a finger over the exposed surfaces.

"Are you saying that thing got us running all over Cardiff?" Owen was incredulous.

"Uh huh. Tosh, it doesn't seem to have affected your PC too badly so far. See if you can find out what it's been doing."

"Okay." She turned back to the keyboard and accessed the diagnostics, watching the information scroll up the screen. "Oh no."

"What?" demanded Owen.

"It's been trying to access the Hub defences."

"Shut down the PC. Now!" ordered Jack.

"But I've got programs running!" she wailed.

"Do it, it's the only way. Just press the switch until it turns off." Jack was standing up now, his hand hovering over the cube. He watched Toshiko and saw her depress the switch and hold it in. The cube buzzed and vibrated, sounding angry. When the computer powered down Jack grabbed the cube and yanked it away from the desk, the wire ripping free. The buzzing went on for a moment or two then fizzled out.

"If it's a toy," began Gwen slowly, "why was it after the Hub defences?" She was standing by the coffee table, looking at the now inert cube.

"My guess? It wanted to play Shut a'Box." Jack shook the cube and it made a weak buzz.

"What's that?" queried Ianto, peering round Gwen to see the cube.

"A very popular game. The box of tricks locks doors and windows and people have to try to get in – or out. Can take hours."

"Doesn't sound much of a game to me," volunteered Owen, his arms folded across his chest.

"So it sent us running all over Cardiff so it could lock us out?" asked Gwen dubiously.

"I don't think it did send those messages," said Toshiko thoughtfully.

"What do you mean, Tosh?" asked Jack, looking up from the box.

"Our computer system is part organic, sentient even. I think it was calling for help and the only way it could do that was - "

"Using stored information," completed Jack. "You could well be right. We'll need to run a full diagnostic on the computer system, the works, see if this little blighter," he waved the box around, "left anything behind." He went to the office and put the cube in an empty container and sealed it. As he walked back, he grinned at Toshiko who was already getting set up to work through the night. "Tosh, not now! Go home and get some sleep."

"Sounds like a plan," muttered Owen. "I'm off."

"Me too," agreed Gwen, already moving to the steps and the cog door beyond. "Coming, Tosh?"

"Okay," she sighed reluctantly, "I've lost most of my work and those diagnostics will take hours." She grabbed her belongings and with a wave to Ianto followed her colleagues.

Jack turned to Ianto still sitting on the couch. "We have to get you home," said Jack gently, kneeling down beside him.

"Don't bother, you'd only have to come straight back." Someone had to be on duty and Jack had been elected by default. "Let's go to your quarters, if you'll help me down the ladder." Ianto struggled to his feet. "That way we can be together."

"I like that idea."

* * *


	43. Wear Your Poppy With Pride

_This is set mid to late first season, November 2007._

* * *

**Wear Your Poppy With Pride**

Ianto liked being in the Tourist Office. It was his own personal space that the rest of the Torchwood team used only as a means to access to the Hub. Here he could be assured that Owen and Jack would not use the brochures to make paper aeroplanes; that Toshiko would not cover the counter with small artefacts, tools and spare parts; and that Gwen would not leave sticky sweet wrappers on the chair. It was into this pristine domain that a woman called on a cold blustery day in early November.

"Hello, dear. Poppies," she said cheerily brandishing two blue boxes with large red stylised poppies on the side.

"Oh, do we sell them here?"

"I have you down, love. Ms Sato always takes two boxes." She looked anxious for a moment before her natural cheery expression reasserted itself.

"Okay. Thank you." Ianto took the boxes and looked round anxiously for somewhere to put them down deciding the only spare space was his chair.

"No, love, thank you. We need supporters like Ms Sato. See you in a couple of weeks. Bye." With a wave she left, letting in a blast of cold air.

Ianto stood, wondering what to do with all the poppies. He opened one box and set it up on a space he created on the counter, the large red collecting tin – when did they start being made of plastic? – prominent at the side. The other box he put on the floor, resolving to ask Toshiko what to do with it later. Getting back to his folders, he continued marking them up for filing, checking the papers were in date order and properly secured; he was cheesed off with picking up a file only for the papers to fall out of it. As he worked, the collecting tin – should he call it collecting plastic? – always seemed to be in his field of vision, its emptiness mocking him.

He could remember Poppy Days from his childhood when it had been a thrill to put in a penny and be given a poppy to wear. He had thrust it into the front of his jumper making a hole that his mother had complained about. The poppy had usually fallen out and got lost within hours necessitating a trip to his piggy bank and another penny spent on another poppy. He had been a teenager before he had associated the poppies with the old men wearing medals marching past the War Memorial and at university before fully understanding how his pennies helped support injured soldiers. Of course, then it had not been cool to wear a poppy. Too many people had said it glorified war, had been agitating for the tradition to stop or the poppies to be white. It had not stopped Ianto buying a poppy although he had not worn it.

In recent years he'd not bothered with one at all but now he thought of Lisa. She had died for her country and this was a way of honouring her. Getting some change from his pocket, he put a pound coin in the collecting tin and took a poppy, fixing it to his lapel. That felt better. He got his head down and carried on working.

"Hi, Ianto," called Toshiko, hurrying the close the door before the wind set all the papers blowing around. "Brrr, it's cold out there."

"I know. There's a draught under the door, I'm going to have to do something about it."

"Oh, the poppies are here! Is my box downstairs?" She looked at him eagerly, her face shining.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted done with them, so I put one out and kept the other one." He bent and retrieved it from the floor.

"It's for me. Time to make some money out of you lot." She grinned happily, took the box then put it down again. "Oops, nearly forgot to buy one." She fished out her purse and got out a five pound note, folding it up small to push it through the slit of the collecting tin. "This one, I think." She made her selection and put the poppy in a buttonhole of her jacket. With a quick smile she was off through the secret door that Ianto had opened for her, box in her arms.

He stood for a moment and puzzled over the mystery of the poppies – what was she going to do with them? – but a customer put the problem out of his mind and he forgot all about it.

In the Hub, Owen was banging repeatedly at his keyboard and getting nowhere. "This bleeding thing's stuck," he complained loudly. "Tosh, come and fix it."

"You know what you have to do, Owen," she replied sweetly, not looking up from her analysis of a Varron music crystal.

"This is childish, utterly stupid. You're computer support I shouldn't have to pay you!"

"You're not paying me, you're making a contribution to a good cause."

"It's still coming out of my pocket."

"You have deep pockets."

"But short arms," added Jack who was passing on his way out. "Pay the lady, Owen."

"This is extortion." Owen levered himself up and dug around for a fifty pence coin which he dropped into the collection tin on Toshiko's desk. "Now will you look at the bleeding keyboard?"

"Of course, I will. Here's your poppy." She held one out to him, not quite confident enough to attach it to his T-shirt, before sitting at his desk and sorting out the problem in two minutes.

The next time he needed help, Owen hesitated before calling on Toshiko's assistance. Instead he played around with the mouse for half an hour but still couldn't get it to work. Slamming it down, he stood by Toshiko's desk and put all the coppers he had into the tin without being asked. She smiled at him and held out another poppy before replacing the battery in the mouse.

Ianto had seen this take place but did not understand it. Neither did Gwen who, never backward in coming forward, decided to ask.

"Tosh, what's with the poppies?"

"From now until Remembrance Day, I'll only give advice if you buy a poppy. It's for a good cause."

"Yeah, but every time?"

"She's a sadist," muttered the doctor. "Bloody poppies." The two he had 'bought' had found their way into the bin.

"It's my way of raising money. My grandfather worked for the Allies during the last War and this is my way of remembering him. So, fix the problem yourself or buy a poppy."

"Is Harkness doing anything this year?" asked Owen, sitting back in his chair until it creaked alarmingly.

"Don't know."

"Jack does it as well?" asked Gwen incredulously.

"He helps her!" replied Owen with disgust.

Toshiko giggled. "Remember when he gave away kisses to anyone who bought a poppy, up by the water tower?"

"I remember the gay-bashers who tried to wallop him for kissing the boys," said Owen gleefully.

Gwen went back to her PC thoughtfully. She would be more than happy to buy a poppy from Jack if she got another kiss, that one in the Conway Clinic really didn't count. On the other side of the Hub, Ianto was less happy at the thought of everyone kissing Jack; that was his job now. But the idea of raising money caught his imagination and he knew exactly how he could raise more for Toshiko. He just needed to make a quick trip to the Tourist Office first.

"Coffee," he said to Toshiko, holding out a tray with her mug and a poppy. "Just buy a poppy and it's all yours."

"Whee," she squealed, "that's a great idea. I didn't know you were joining in." She pulled out her purse and put down a couple of coins taking both poppy and coffee.

"No! I am not going to buy my coffee too!" protested Owen.

"Twenty pence minimum," said Ianto calmly, "that's cheaper than you can get it anywhere else." He held out Owen's mug tantalisingly, a poppy on the tray next to it.

"I'm going to be skint by the end of today." Owen dug out a couple of ten pence coins and took the coffee.

Gwen happily paid up and so did Jack when Ianto presented him with the ultimatum.

"Nice one, Ianto."

"What will you being doing to help Tosh, sir?" asked the Welshman.

"Don't think I'll do anything this year." He looked into the distance. "Not the year for it." Ianto opened his mouth to ask more but then thought better of it - Jack looked sad - and left the office.

Over the next two weeks the money mounted up. There was a veritable field of poppies in the Hub as the little paper flowers were bought and sold repeatedly. (Ianto rescued all of those Owen discarded.) Jack was constantly requesting Tosh's assistance for the smallest thing and drank twice as much coffee as usual. His poppies were stuck to the glass walls of the office in neat rows.

On Sunday eleventh of November, Ianto got into the Hub slightly later than normal at ten past eight. He was wearing a dark suit as he had agreed to accompany Toshiko to the Service at the War Memorial in Cathays Park. The Hub was silent and Ianto started his daily round by emptying bins and clearing up rubbish around the work area. In Jack's office he wondered whether his boss was in his quarters under the closed hatch but thought better of checking; he didn't want to disturb him if he was still sleeping.

Coming out of the office, the poppies caught his eye and he stopped to adjust one which was a millimetre out of line with its neighbours. As he did so, he saw that it had writing on the back, a name. All the poppies had names on. Abandoning the black sack of rubbish, he went out to Owen's desk and used the PC to check on the half dozen names he had memorised. Cyril James, Michael Woodruff, Albert Harris and the rest were all men killed at Passchendaele in 1917. When he had checked forty three names Ianto gave up and went back to his duties. All the men whose names Jack had inscribed on the poppies had died in that one battle in autumn 1917, ninety years ago almost to the day. Ianto puzzled over this for the rest of the morning.

At eleven o'clock he, Toshiko and Jack stood unmoving in front of the War Memorial along with a hundred or so other people observing the two minute silence. Ianto thought of Lisa and the others who had died at Canary Wharf in the service of their country. Toshiko remembered her grandfather, a code breaker at Bletchley Park who had helped shorten the War and save thousands of lives. Jack thought of the men he had fought with ninety years earlier, three hundred thousand of whom had died or been wounded. Of the people standing in the cold wind on that November morning, none wore their poppies with more pride.

_**Coda**_

"Hello, love, me again." The cheery lady was back in the Tourist Office. "Got your boxes?"

Ianto smiled at her and reached under the counter for the two empty boxes. "Not sure if you want these back, all the poppies have gone."

"Again? I don't know how you do it! Nowhere else sells out."

"The collection tins are full though." He put them both down with a thud on the counter; they were very heavy. "We couldn't get all the money in so there's this bag as well." He put a sealed canvas bag down beside the tins which also made an audible thud.

"Oh my, this is wonderful. We'll be able to do so much with this money, so much." She became emotional for a moment before regaining control. "Thank you, and thank Ms Sato." She struggled to pick up the tins and bag and Ianto moved round to open the door for her.

"Next year, " he said, "put us down for three boxes."

* * *


	44. He's Doing What?

_A short story to mark Children in Need_

**

* * *

**

He's Doing What?

"I'm off then. See you tomorrow."

"Okay. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," said Jack, looking up from the papers on his desk.

"Is there anything you WOULDN'T do?" asked Owen with a grin. With a cheery goodnight to the others he strode out of the cog door, a man with somewhere go.

There was a moment's silence as Jack, Toshiko and Gwen all paused in what they were doing until Ianto's voice sounded through the comms. _"He's gone."_

"Tosh, work that CCTV. Gwen search his desk again, there's got to be some clue!"

Jack was on his feet, pacing the work area as the women worked. The mystery of Owen Harper had deepened over the past three days. He had taken to getting in at a reasonable hour and going early. At first they'd assumed he was off to the pub or had a new woman in his life but then Gwen, on a rare night out with Rhys, had seen their errant doctor enter Cardiff General Hospital. They had tracked him the previous night and he had gone to the Hospital again, emerging several hours later – smiling. It was the smile that had done it. Owen rarely smiled and so it had become their mission to find out what he was doing there.

"It's the hospital again," piped up Toshiko, "got to be." She was following his car as it wended its way through the early evening traffic.

"I still don't see why you don't ask him," said Ianto who had come down from the Tourist Office. He stood at the top of the steps by Toshiko's desk, hands in his pockets.

"I tried that," said Gwen, twisting to look up at him from her place on the floor under Owen's desk. She had searched all the drawers and was looking for any scraps of paper that might help their quest. "He just fobbed me off and then we got interrupted by a Rift alert."

"He'd have to tell you, Jack. You ask him."

"Where's the fun in that? This is much better." Jack grinned the feral grin that Ianto had come to know so well. "Owen's trying to keep something secret and it's killing him that I've not asked what he's doing. No, I just want to drop in on him and get a reaction."

"Yep, it's the hospital." Toshiko twirled round in her chair. "What now?"

"Use whatever coverage they have to follow him inside the building. Gwen, you up for a hospital visit?"

"He's probably visiting a patient," pointed out Ianto. "You can't just barge in on him." He was uncomfortable about invading Owen's privacy, something his colleagues seemed to have no qualms about.

"No he's not." They all turned to look at Toshiko who was still looking at her screens as she spoke. "He's gone into a doctors' rest room. No CCTV in there."

"Then he's catching up with a friend. He did work there." Ianto was trying hard to persuade Jack not to pursue Owen but he had no great hopes of success. This was Jack in hunting mode and nothing could stop him. Gwen had a similar look on her face.

"Come off it, Ianto," scoffed Gwen, "since when has Owen had any friends! I'm with you, Jack." She was pulling on her short leather jacket before going to her desk to get her bag.

"I'll get my coat." Jack loped off, still grinning at the thought of this little adventure.

"Ianto," said Toshiko softly, "go with them. You know what Jack's like and Gwen's not much better. Make sure they don't do anything stupid." She smiled up at him encouragingly. She didn't want Owen embarrassed.

"I don't know - "

"Please, Ianto!"

He sighed and reached for his own coat. It was dark and wet on this November evening and he had been looking forward to staying in with Jack but Toshiko was probably right, he and Gwen needed someone to temper their wilder excesses.

Jack bounded back and grinned when he saw Ianto in his overcoat. "You coming too?"

"Someone has to keep you in order."

"And there's no one better than you for the job," agreed Jack blithely. "Gwen, come on!" She was still dithering by her desk.

"All right!" she shouted back.

"Tosh, give us directions when we're at the hospital. We're leaving, Gwen, if you're not in the SUV in two minutes we're going without you."

He turned and was gone down the steps, Ianto following more slowly. Gwen raced across the Hub and disappeared after them. Alone, Toshiko sat back and wondered if they were doing the right thing. If Owen had a private life they should respect it not trample all over it. She should have refused to help them but there was part of her that wanted to know the answer as much as they did. Besides, if she hadn't tracked Owen, Jack would have done it. She went to get a beer.

The three Torchwood operatives strode into the hospital as if they owned it and by-passed Reception, going straight to the third floor and along a seemingly endless corridor. Toshiko had given them directions; Owen was in the end room. Gwen had her hand in her bag, fingering her Glock. She liked to know it was there if she needed it. Ianto was reading the names on the doors; the senior staff each had an office on this floor and, he noted, none of them were Welsh. Jack looked neither right nor left, he was striding ahead concentrating totally on his goal. He was going to find out what Owen was up to. Not knowing had been like toothache, it was time to pull it out.

Music blared from the room along with the sound of a number of voices. Jack paused, looked at his colleagues and then opened the door. They stood framed in the doorway and surveyed the room. A dozen or so people were gathered there, some in scrubs or lab coats others in casual wear. Drinks and food lay around on tables and chairs. A space had been cleared in the centre of the room and two rowing machines set up. One was empty, the other was occupied by Owen who was wearing sports gear and sweating hard. A woman sat on the floor at his side with a stopwatch.

"That is good, Owen," said the woman in a faint Indian accent, "just another ten minutes. Do not go so fast, there is no need."

"He's trying to beat Darren's record. Fat chance of that!" called one of the men standing around. The others laughed good naturedly, this was obviously an old joke.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? This is a private room not open to members of the public." A short, fussy man stood in front of Jack.

"Maybe they're checking up on us. You know, invigilators or something," said a young woman in the crowd.

"Nobody's checking up on us, Janie! Christ, they don't care what we do as long as we give them money." This came from the man who had spoken before.

"Please leave," said the fussy little man. Standing toe to toe with Jack he looked even smaller and more insignificant than normal.

"It's all right, Bill, I know them." Owen glared at his colleagues but kept rowing. "They work for .. the Health Authority."

"Bloody hell, worse than invigilators." Bill walked off, back to his beer and pizza.

"You any idea what's going on here, Jack?" asked Gwen in a whisper.

"None whatsoever. But I see beer and pizza so it can't be all bad." He rubbed his hands together.

"It's for Children in Need. They're raising money by holding a rowathon," said Ianto. "They're being sponsored to row non-stop for a week."

Jack stared at him. "How do you know that?"

"I know everything." He paused for a moment. "And it's on that poster over there." He nodded towards the opposite wall where a large poster gave all the details.

"Well I'll be. Owen doing something for someone else, never thought I'd see the day."

The three of them walked further into the room and watched as one of the men stripped down to sports gear and got onto the second rowing machine. There was a countdown and as Owen's time ended the new guy started rowing.

"Good one, Owen, but not good enough," said a large young man with massive shoulders. "I did fifty two more strokes than you."

"I'll bloody beat you yet, Darren. There's two more days to go." Owen got up and wiped his face and forearms with a towel. He walked over to his Torchwood colleagues. "All right, what the bleeding hell are you three doing here?"

Jack looked at Gwen who was eyeing up a hunk in tight lycra shorts and Ianto who just stared back at him. "We were worried about you. Wanted to make sure you were okay." Jack refused to apologise. "Didn't expect this."

"No, well, Tony needed bodies and it's a good cause. Now fuck off." He went to a chair where his clothes were piled untidily.

"I think you're doing a wonderful thing, Owen. I admire you for it," said Ianto sincerely. "Can I sponsor you?"

"If you want." He scrabbled about in the clothes and found a tatty form. "Here you go."

Ianto carefully smoothed out the creases, tutting as he did so, and then took out his fountain pen and entered his name and sponsorship amount. He passed it to Jack. "I'm sure you'll want to contribute too, sir."

Shamed into doing so, Jack scribbled his name and doubled the amount Ianto had pledged before handing the form on to Gwen. If he had to give money she was not getting out of it.

"You finished now?" she asked Owen as she handed back the form.

"Nah, doing another thirty minutes in an hour." He was drinking from a bottle of beer thirstily.

"Can anyone join in?" asked Jack suddenly.

"Yeah. Was supposed to be just hospital people but so many dropped out we're accepting all comers. Why, you want to have a go?" Owen was grinning now. Jack had always pooh-poohed using exercise machines. "Didn't have you down as a rower."

"Me? Trained Steve Redgrave when he was a nipper. That was after I'd done the Atlantic, of course." He took off this greatcoat. "Ianto, get out your stopwatch."

That evening was one of the best Torchwood Three had had for a while. By the time Toshiko joined them, the others had made themselves at home and were eating and drinking with the rest of the spectators. Jack took his turn on the rowing machine and did well, coming closer to Darren's record than anyone else. Rhys arrived a bit later, summoned by Gwen, and had a go too, determined to beat Jack's score but failing miserably. While he was recovering, Ianto took his turn. He rowed sedately, not trying to beat any records just doing his bit to raise money. In the early hours of the following morning, when most of the crowd had dispersed to their beds, Jack had another turn and this time beat Darren's record.

Overall, the rowathon raised over three thousand pounds for Children in Need.

* * *

_Inspired by all those hard working people who helped raise money for this worthwhile cause. It's not too late to donate. _


	45. Another Place, Another Face

**Another Place, Another Face**

It wasn't often that Owen Harper was rendered speechless. He had seen all sides of human nature - good, bad and indifferent – while working as a hospital doctor and his years with Torchwood had shown him wonders and horrors in equal measure. So it had to be something particularly unusual to have left him in his current state. And it was. The nun, robes flowing around her, was laying into the four Weevils with a vengeance. Jack lay sprawled on the ground with his throat torn out, dead from blood loss. Straddling him was the nun, swinging a scaffolding pole at the circling Weevils. She was doing a good job. All four were blooded and one took a particularly vicious hit to the head and went down, unconscious.

Shaking himself out of his state of shock, Owen leapt from the SUV and joined the fight. He managed to spray one Weevil which sent it down and clobbered another before sedating them both. The nun was repeatedly hitting the remaining Weevil and it was soon down. She stood above it breathing hard, at the ready to land another blow, until Owen had sedated and secured it too. Only then did she drop the scaffolding pole with a metal clang on the ground.

"Well, to be sure, I didn't expect to be doing that when I left the convent this morning," she declared in a broad Irish accent and with a grin that split her face. "Are you on your own?"

"Ah, yeah." Owen stood up, eyeing the nun warily. He had met very few nuns, only those who had been nurses at one of the hospitals where he had worked, and was always nervous around them.

"I'll be giving you a hand then. I expect Jack'll be out for a while yet, poor love." She glanced down at Jack's body. "Shall we be getting him in your van first?"

"Yeah, okay."

Feeling totally at sea, Owen followed her lead and together they hefted Jack onto the back seat of the SUV. It was awkward but they managed by giving him a good push and leaving him in a heap. Next, the two of them moved the four unconscious Weevils into the back, piling them up on top of one another and having to press down hard to get the door to lock. By now Owen was even more confused. The nun looked to be in her twenties maybe thirties – it was hard to tell behind the wimple and robes – but she had lifted the bodies around just as easily as he had. Why was she so strong? How did she know Jack? Why was she helping him? He felt he should be getting answers. Maybe that was best done back at the Hub where he could lock her up if he didn't like those she gave him. But how to get her there?

"Now, young man, are you going to be able to manage the other end or do you want me to come with you?" The nun stood with her hands tucked inside her robes and put her head to one side, regarding him solemnly.

"I'd like the help, thanks." That was easier than he'd expected. He opened the passenger door and she climbed in, arranging her robes around her. Owen closed the door, wondering when he had last opened a car door for a woman – Katie, he decided - and walked round to the driver's side. He had turned on the ignition when he felt her looking at him. "What?" he demanded as he drove over the grass verge and onto the road.

"I was wondering what your name is." The nun settled comfortably in the seat, looking at him curiously.

"Owen Harper. Doctor Owen Harper. What about you?" He negotiated a roundabout and flicked a glance her way.

"Marie Therese. Sister Marie Therese," she replied, smiling.

He grinned back at her, sharing the joke. "You know Jack then," he ventured after a pause.

"That I do," she said, peering between the seats to where Jack lay on his side, face pushed into the seat and his bottom in the air. "We should really have laid him out better than that," she continued sadly, "he'll be all creased when he wakes up."

Owen drove on and eventually turned right into the underground car park, swiping his card to raise the barrier. He used the drive to think. Not only did this nun know Jack, she knew he couldn't die which meant either Jack had told her or, more likely, she had seen him resurrect. But why or how did that happen? He hadn't told them about his special 'skill' for years, they'd had to find out the hard way - by killing him. Owen shivered as he remembered shooting Jack and then him coming back to life at their feet; Owen had never been so scared – or ashamed – in his life before or since.

"Now, Dr Harper, where would you be taking me?" Marie Therese was peering about her as Owen went down four levels to the secure parking area. "You'll be remembering I'm a nun, I hope. I'll not put up with any naughty business." She fixed him with a stare but the smile playing around her lips showed she was not being serious.

"It's the quickest way into the base," he explained shortly, taking the last turn and drawing up as close to the door as possible. "Just through there."

"I shall have to trust you, Dr Harper. This is not an entrance I've used before." She opened her door and got down, decorously arranging her skirts around her.

Owen moved round and entered the security code. The door lock clicked and he held the door open, securing it with the hook. "I'll get the Weevils out and dump 'em inside. We can sort them out properly after that."

"Fine. Then I'll take Jack and leave you to handle them."

With that she had the back door of the SUV open and was dragging Jack out. Bending at the knees, she put him over her shoulder in a fireman's lift and then – staggering only slightly – she walked through the door.

"Hang on!" Owen called after her, taken by surprise yet again. He sighed and opened his comms. "Ianto, Gwen, there's a nun heading your way from the garage." He thought of explaining but with a chuckle decided against it – let them deal with her. He got the first of the Weevils out of the back and dragged it to the door.

Inside the Hub, Gwen looked up from her desk and caught Ianto's eye. "Did you hear what I just heard?" she asked.

"A nun?" he queried, eyebrow raised. They both looked towards the red door leading to the garage.

"He's got to be joking." Gwen stood up and walked over to join Ianto, standing looking at the door. They watched the door push inwards and then saw a black garbed figure come through with Jack's unmistakable form on her shoulder. "Shit!"

"Kindly mind your language, young lady!" snapped Marie Therese. She stood, swaying. "And you, boy, are you just going to stand there or are you going to give me a hand?"

Ianto sprang forward, Gwen just a split second behind, and grabbed Jack's head and shoulders as Marie Therese held onto his legs. They lowered him to the ground, Ianto on his knees beside Jack, fussing with his coat and checking the gaping wound at his throat. Gwen checked him over visually but then returned her gaze to the nun who had come amongst them so unexpectedly.

"Where's Owen?" she asked.

"He's back there," she replied, jerking a thumb back the way she had come. "He's got a pile of Weevils and could use a hand. Go and help him now."

Gwen was through the door and walking down the passage before she realised what she was doing. She didn't take orders from strangers! She was about to turn back when she saw Owen coming towards her, Weevil over his shoulder. "Who the hell is she?" Gwen demanded.

"God knows!" he answered before smiling wryly; He probably did. "Some friend of Jack's, far as I can tell. There's three more of these back there," he went on, gesturing to the Weevil. Then he pushed past her.

Entering the Hub, Owen looked round but couldn't see anyone. Standing still he listened and heard Ianto's voice and the nun's Irish brogue coming from the medical bay. Assuming, correctly, that they were seeing to Jack, Owen went on down the stairs to the vaults with his prisoner. He and Gwen got all four Weevils in the cells before returning to the main level where they found Ianto and the nun in the medical bay standing beside Jack who lay on the examination table.

Ianto had been too busy worrying over Jack to notice Gwen leaving and had only looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm thinking you love him," said the nun gently.

"Yes." Ianto couldn't believe that he had just admitted his most intimate feelings to someone he had never met before. What kind of strange power did she have?

"Well, son, let's get him somewhere better than this or we'll never hear the last of it. You take that end and I'll take this." She took firm hold of Jack's legs and when Ianto was in place they waddled forward and up the steps to the medical bay. "He needs to be losing some weight," she puffed as they heaved him down into the bay and onto the examination table. "And this coat just gets in the way." She expertly lifted him and took it off him, Ianto helping once he realised what she was doing. "Now, isn't that better?"

"Who are you?" he ventured timidly, folding the greatcoat and draping it over the chain railing. He absently noted the blood stains and made a note to get it dry cleaned as soon as possible.

"I'm Sister Marie Therese of the Daughters of Charity." She smiled at him over Jack's body. "But more of that later. I'm think we should clean this one up a bit before he comes to. Get some of this blood off him, you know how vain he is."

They spent the next ten minutes washing Jack's face, neck and chest free of the blood, seeing the wounds visibly heal in front of them. Ianto removed Jack's torn and bloodstained shirt but left the T-shirt for now although it was also ruined and would follow the shirt into the bin. He and Marie Therese were standing watching Jack, expecting him to come back to life at any moment, when Owen and Gwen appeared.

"He still out of it?" asked Owen. He pushed Ianto aside to peer down at the now completely healed wounds on Jack's neck.

"That he is. But it's not your services he'll be needing, doctor." Marie Therese had her hands folded away again and was looking at him benevolently.

"He doesn't need yours either!" he retorted.

"Owen!" admonished Gwen, scowling before turning to the nun. "I'm Gwen, Gwen Cooper. And you are?"

"Sister Marie Therese," she replied. "So it is just the four of you now then? Or is Alex still around somewhere?"

Gwen and Owen exchanged confused looks, never having bothered to research earlier Torchwood operatives. Ianto realised Marie Therese meant Alex Hopkins, leader of Torchwood Three until December 1999 when he'd killed the then team before committing suicide. Obviously this nun had not been in contact with Jack for a while.

"No. Alex died," he said deciding not to go into more detail. "But we do have another colleague, Toshiko Sato."

"She's out today," added Gwen. She was about to ask about this Alex but Ianto shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Ianto was standing at the end of the table, his hand resting on Jack's shoulder and that was why he was the first to know that Jack was about to come back to them. He felt a quiver and then Jack reared up and forward, arms flailing and gasping for air. Ianto grasped him, holding on tight as Jack recovered his senses. "It's okay, Jack, it's okay," Ianto murmured. "You're in the Hub, you're okay."

Jack looked round and spotted Gwen and Owen then his gaze rested on the nun. "Who's she?" he asked, pointing and struggling out of Ianto's grasp to sit upright on his own.

"Well, that's a nice greeting, I must say! Next time, I'll let the Weevils eat'cha!" She glared at him and he gazed back.

Jack stared at her, confused by his resurrection as well as by this woman. He let Ianto fuss over him as the blackness receded once again and the pain faded away. Waving Ianto back, Jack swung his legs over the table and sat looking at the nun before looking round at his team.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, mate, she was fighting off the Weevils that turned on you. She knows you all right." Owen was watching Jack carefully, still interested medically in the way he came back from the dead. He was also just a bit anxious in case he had brought someone into the Hub that he shouldn't.

"Knows the Hub too," added Gwen, moving slightly to block her exit up the steps.

"If I mentioned Election Day 1997, would that be helping you?" asked Marie Therese, maintaining her calm demeanour. Jack still looked blank. "A Rift opening in Splott? Lots of little green men in short overcoats? Like leprechauns, they were."

"Bert," Jack said slowly, "is that you?"

"The name is Marie Therese, Sister Marie Therese, and has been these past five years." Her sparkling eyes and wide grin made it clear that despite Jack's confusion these two knew each other well.

"Bert!" With a cry of joy, Jack got off the table and wrapped the nun in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet and planting a big kiss on her lips. "You'll always be Bert to me, old man. But you went up north! What are you doing back here?"

"Saving your sorry arse! And kindly put me down. It's not seemly to be doing what you're thinking of doing with a nun!"

Jack put her down and took a pace back, looking her over from head to foot. "You make one beautiful nun, I'll say that for you." He was shaking his head in wonder, a big smile on his face.

"Forgive me for interrupting," said Gwen, her tone sarky, "but would one of you mind telling us what's going on?"

"This is an old friend of mine," explained Jack, slinging an arm casually round the nun's shoulders. "Did you really fight off the Weevils?" he asked her.

"I did. Quite like old times, it was. Now, any chance of a drink? I've worked up quite a thirst."

"Coffee, that's what you need," enthused Jack.

"I was actually hoping for something stronger but if that's all you've got."

"We may be able to find something to spice it up for you." Jack spotted Ianto's pained expression and quickly added, "Not that you need it. In fact it'd probably ruin it. Bad idea." He was pleased to see Ianto face return to normal.

"You'd better go and change, Jack," put in Ianto, picking up the greatcoat and moving up the steps. "I'll start the coffee."

Jack looked down at his bloody and ripped T-shirt and pulled a face. "Yeah, think I'd better. What happened to my shirt? I'm sure I was wearing a shirt. Ianto," he called plaintively as he followed him up the steps, "did you take my shirt off?"

Gwen looked after them exasperated. She still had no idea who this nun was or what she was doing here.

"Don't worry, dear, he'll explain eventually." With a reassuring hand on Gwen's shoulder, Marie Therese gently guided the other woman up the steps to the work area.

It was only when Gwen was sitting on the sofa that she realised she'd done exactly what she'd been told again, without comment or protest. It was a strange feeling and one she couldn't understand. She send a sideways glance at Marie Therese, now sitting next to her, and wondered what her story was, and how she and Jack knew one another so well. And why did Jack call her Bert? There was so much still to be explained.

"Okay," said Jack, bounding out his office. He was in a clean shirt and looked none the worse for his recent demise. "Coffee's on the way and we have to catch up. You've been using this body for five years, was it?" He sat on Toshiko's chair which he scooted over to the coffee table.

"That's right. The strain got too much for Bertram; humans will never be a perfect match."

Owen and Gwen stared at one another, at the nun and at Jack. She was an alien? A user of human bodies? Gwen shifted away from her while the doctor dived over to the desk and grabbed a scanner which he ran over the nun.

"But there's always one of us who's looking for an adventure." Jack looked across at Owen. "What are you doing?"

"She's … she's got something alien in her." The scan showed an alien mass in Marie Therese's chest.

"That'll be Revenal you're picking up on your little box." Marie Therese was unperturbed. "He's a Symollazine and I'm his host. Oh, thank you, dear." The last was said to Ianto who had returned and was holding out her coffee.

"Relax, Owen. Revenal is a symbiont who came to Earth … oh, thirty years ago?" Jack took his mug and smiled his thanks at Ianto.

"Thirty three to be precise. And I'm liking this coffee, son, very nice."

"Thirty three," corrected Jack with a smile. "He and his original host - a Symollatite -were assessed as harmless and they set up home here in Cardiff. Didn't hear any more of them for a while until the host started to fail."

"Ah, poor Tharan. He was a good man and I miss him," said Marie Therese sadly. "He found life here difficult and missed his friends. But he looked after Revenal, like a good Symollatite should."

"Tharan, that was his name." Jack put a hand on her knee in reassurance. "When he knew he was dying he came to us for help. The doctor at the time established that humans could act as hosts and Bert Challenor, one of the team, volunteered. When the time came, the transfer worked fine. We stayed in touch, off and on - "

"More off than on, Jack Harkness," accused Marie Therese. "I only ever saw this one when he wanted to complain about Torchwood."

"That's not true! There was 1997." Jack's familiar leer was back in place

"Yes, all right, there was that," she conceded with an impish smile. "Goodness, that was a good few months." She put down her empty coffee mug and fanned her face with a hand. "And now I'm getting all hot and bothered at the memory."

"No reason for it to stay a memory," leered Jack, leaning forward and moving his hand up her leg.

"Stop it, Jack! I have enough to confess already without you adding to it." She batted away Jack's hand. "He is a bad man," she told the others.

"We know that already," grimaced Owen. "But this symbiont/host thing, how does it work? What happened to Bert? How did you transfer to this body?"

"So many questions, Dr Harper. Revenal is totally benign. He's already four hundred of our years old and is so wise. He's my best friend." She smiled happily, seeming to look inward. "Normally one of his hosts would last for fifty years or so but the strain on humans means it was only twenty for Bert. That's why, when the time came, he sought out someone younger. As to how it's done, well, you'll have papers on that somewhere."

"It's okay, you don't need to explain." Jack smiled sympathetically. "It's a very private process, Owen."

"I'm not sure I understand," said Gwen. "You talk like there's two of you."

"There is, dear. Revenal is sentient and we share our thoughts and our memories. Ah, and he has such memories." Marie Therese's eyes lit up and she beamed at them. "I could go for days just lost in them all. But I'm still me, Marie Therese."

"You were a nun when you were taken over?"

"You make it sound like I'm possessed which I am not!" the nun retorted quickly. "It's a … coming together. I knew what I was getting, or thought I did. Actually, it's so much better than I expected. And I was a nun. Revenal wanted to know more about religion and what better way to find out."

"But what are you doing back here?" asked Jack.

"I was sent here, three months ago, by the convent. They needed some younger nuns and I knew so much about the place from Revenal that I jumped at the chance."

"Why didn't come look me up? I'm hurt." Jack pulled a silly face.

"Hah, didn't need to, did I? Knew I'd see that old coat flapping about somewhere with you inside it." She smiled at him softly. "I am glad to see you again, Jack. Thought there might be more of the old team here still. I'm sorry."

"Thanks." When Bert had left Cardiff, Alex Hopkins and his team had been policing the Rift. Marie Therese was one of the few people that still remembered them. "Now, want a tour? We've changed a few things."

"I'd love it, Jack, but not now. The Sisters will be wondering what's happened to me and I need to get back for lunch. I'll come again, if I may."

"Sure. I'll try and make sure Owen here stops eyeing you like a specimen."

"Sorry," muttered the doctor. "Never come across a life form like you. I'd just like to know more."

"It's all right, I understand. And I'll answer all the questions you've got, but not now. I must be off." She stood up and smoothed her robes. "Does the lift still work?"

"Sure. I'll take you out that way," laughed Jack. He was standing too and took the greatcoat as Ianto handed it to him. "Where's the convent? I'll give you a lift."

"It's in Ely." She turned to the other. "It was nice meeting you all and I hope to see you again sometime."

She nodded and smiled at them before Jack took her hand and led her to the lift, chattering about this and that and pointing out some changes to the Hub as they walked. The pair of them made the stately ascent and only when they were out of sight did Gwen heave a great sigh and stand up.

"Well," she said, "that wasn't what I expected."

"Nah." Owen was at his desk searching the database for details of the symbiont. "Ianto -"

" - get you the files," completed the Welshman. "Give me a minute." He put the last coffee mug on the tray and went off to the kitchen.

"What exactly is inside her?" asked Gwen, moving to stand close to Owen's desk.

"This." He brought the scans up on the screen and they looked at them from all angles. "It's incredibly complex, look at the way it's attached to her nervous system." Owen pointed to the screen.

The scans did not make a lot of sense to Gwen. She was more interested in what it would be like to have another … person inside her chest. "Is it heavy?" she asked. "And how does it fit in?"

"Don't know, I'm hoping the files will give me a clue. Look at this." Fascinated by a new alien life form, they didn't stir when Ianto came back from the archives half an hour later and put two thick files on the desk. A few minutes after that, Jack returned.

"I know that's all new to you lot but there are more important things to be getting on with. Owen, the autopsy. Gwen, where's the report for UNIT? Ianto, I'm sure there's something you should be doing." Jack stood, hands on hips as they turned to look at him. "Chop-chop!"

"All right," complained Owen, planning to whizz through the autopsy and then get back to researching the Symollazine. Gwen slouched off to her desk with a brief smile of acknowledgement.

Ianto followed Jack into the office, closing the door behind him. "So, Jack, I think we need to talk." He took the greatcoat and hung it up before sitting down.

"We do?"

"Uh huh. This nun, just how friendly are you intending to become?"

Jack laughed, loud and long. No matter how wondrous a new life form might be, Ianto had his own agenda.


	46. Mystery in the Snow

_As I look out of the windows, everywhere is covered with snow which gave me this idea. _

* * *

**Mystery in the Snow**

"But how?" asked Ianto, hunched up in his overcoat with his gloved hands pushed well into his pockets.

"Levitation?" suggested Gwen, shivering in the light wind that seemed to find the gaps in her clothing and make her even colder.

"That wouldn't explain the footprints we have got," pointed out Toshiko. She was not shivering, well wrapped up in her leather coat, a large scarf and thick hat and gloves as well as fur lined boots. "I'm getting nothing on this." She had been working her PDA for several minutes.

Ianto peered up into the cloudy sky that promised more snow before the day was out. "Could it have been beamed up?"

"You been watching _Star Trek_ again!?" said Owen scathingly. "There's got to be a logical explanation." He stamped his feet and beat his arms round his body to get warm. "But we're not going to find it by freezing our arses off out here."

"He's right, let's get back to the Hub," agreed Gwen. "Maybe Jack will have got back from wherever he buggered off to." She took a pace towards the SUV, sitting amid the whiteness of the field.

"He's meeting a contact," protested Ianto, taking one last look at the mystery footprints before following her.

"He's keeping himself warm more like!" grumbled Owen. "Got everything you need, Tosh?" He had taken his own samples to analyse later.

"Uh huh."

Toshiko and Owen followed the others and trudged back across the field. They had come here in response to a Rift opening, leaving the relative comfort of the Hub for the snowy fields and bitter cold. It was a lovely scene with snow covering the surrounding land and deadening the sound of the sparse traffic on the roads. Only a few miles from Cardiff city centre - where there was hardly any snow - and they were in a winter wonderland. Ianto drove carefully along the snowy roads as the others tossed ideas around about the mystery.

"There are no traces of radiation or residual Rift energy which is odd. There should have been some," mused Toshiko, transferring her findings from the PDA to the onboard computers.

"I'm sick of thinking about it," grouched Owen, hunched up beside her. "You sure you've got the heater on?" he demanded of Ianto. "It's bloody cold in here."

"Give it a minute," replied Ianto placidly. He negotiated a tricky turning, keeping a watch for less careful drivers, and proceeded towards the city.

"Soon as we get back, I'm going to sit on the heater," said Gwen with feeling. "My arse is frozen."

"Get yourself a decent jacket, a long one," piped up Owen. "That thing you've got may look good but it won't keep out the cold."

"I'll make you all some coffee, that'll warm you up," put in Ianto, hoping to stop them getting antsy with one another. "And I think there are some chocolate biscuits too."

It would have helped to have Jack here. He could keep them all in check when they started sniping at one another and jolly them out of their bad moods. In his absence it was Ianto who was left trying to keep the peace between Owen and Gwen while Toshiko withdrew into some other place and ignored them. Ianto appreciated that Jack had other calls on his time but on this occasion Ianto doubted it was anything important. When Gwen had called Jack to tell him of the alert, he had just told them to get on with it, that he was busy. Knowing him better than anyone, Ianto felt that their boss was making excuses.

The Hub felt warm and welcoming after the cold outside and all four of them relaxed. Toshiko settled at her desk and immediately started analysing the information she'd gleaned at the scene. Owen began the analysis of the samples he had taken and then transferred the photographs from his mobile phone and printed them off as large as they would go and stay clear. Gwen, true to her word, sat on the heater until her bum unfroze then joined him looking through the images, discussing how the footprints had been made and what they meant. Toshiko joined in from her desk and all three of them sipped the coffee and ate the biscuits Ianto delivered to them. The Welshman, after seeing them settled and being civil to one another, disappeared off to his other duties.

An hour later, Jack returned to the base. In deference to the weather his greatcoat was done up and he was wearing lined leather gloves. "Bit nippy out there," he declared, walking through to the office. "What have you got for me?"

"A mystery," smiled Toshiko, the only one not frustrated by the problem before them. Given her way, she'd spend days or even weeks trying to solve it.

"Okay, tell me all about it." Jack was back, having hung up his greatcoat and put his gloves on the desk. "But first … Ianto, coffee, please?" he yelled across to the other side of the Hub.

"The Rift opened over Melyon's Farm, here." Toshiko pointed to a map on one of her screens. "It's had a lot of activity over the years, but nothing recent. Usually, it's just an artefact drop but this time -"

Owen interrupted her. "This time something came through and left footprints." He handed over a large photograph of what they'd found. "A biped stood in the field, in the snow."

"There's no trace of radiation or other alien energy sources," went on Toshiko, used to Owen's ways. "Nothing to indicate what came through or where it went."

"Did you follow the footprints?" asked Jack. "Thanks, Ianto," he said, accepting the mug of coffee.

"There weren't any," explained Gwen, sitting on the sofa. "That's the mystery. Those two footprints were all we found in the entire field. And the snow was deep, any others should still be there."

"It's like this thing," went on Owen, "was dropped out of the Rift on its feet and just stood. Then … vanished." He shrugged, not liking the explanation. He was a scientist and believed there was a reason for everything, you just had to look hard enough, but on this occasion he didn't know where to look. "I took the usual samples but the analysis hasn't come up with anything other than human."

"Ianto suggested a teleport," added Toshiko, "but they leave residual signatures and there were none."

"A proper mystery," said Jack slowly, still looking at the photographs as he sipped his coffee. "Conclusions?"

"The alien had a hover device and took off on that," said Gwen with a shrug of her shoulders to show she didn't like the idea.

"Would have left traces in the snow," objected Owen. "And if the alien stood in the snow, its hovercraft would have too."

"Could it have died?" asked Toshiko. "Contact with our atmosphere could have killed it."

Owen looked over at Toshiko and nodded approvingly, she was thinking outside the box. "Never heard of instantaneous death but there have been stranger things. Would have had to vaporise the body though and there was no trace."

"I'm getting sick of hearing that! Why does everything have to leave traces!?" demanded Gwen. She appreciated the expertise Toshiko and Owen brought to the team but would never understand their reliance on it. "Maybe it did but we don't recognise them."

"That's possible," agreed Toshiko, used to Gwen's distrust of scientific evidence. "But all I found out there was what we would expect, there was nothing I couldn't identify."

"Is there such a thing out there, Jack?" asked Ianto. "A humanoid that would vaporise?"

"Who said it was humanoid? Or two legged?" Jack looked round at them. "You seem to have assumed that."

"Ah, the two footprints, Jack?" Gwen rolled her eyes expressively.

"Could have been two unipods."

"Standing very close together!" interjected Owen with a laugh. "There's only four inches between them."

"Two unipods in a close and loving relationship?" replied Jack with a smile.

"Everything comes back to sex with you, doesn't it, Jack?" complained Gwen. "You didn't answer the question. Do you have any idea what caused this?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." He had their full attention. "Me."

"What?" queried Owen, confused.

"You … you made the footprints?" asked Gwen, sitting up and leaning forward.

"Yep." Jack smiled at them. "You rely on me too much. I wanted to see how you would do on your own and you did well. As I expected, Toshiko ran all the right tests and collected all the right evidence. Owen got the best medical samples he could and some good photographs and Ianto kept the peace. Good job." He handed the photographs back to Owen.

"Hang on," protected the medic. "You sent us out into the cold bloody countryside as a test?"

"That's right. The only thing you missed was in the photographs. That would have answered all your questions."

He stood watching as they all hastened to look at the images, Ianto leaning over Toshiko's shoulder to view them on the screen and Gwen looking at the printed ones with Owen. Jack was pleased with them, they had done a good job. It was important that they thought for themselves and used the scientific and other information available to them as well as their own experience and common sense.

"I don't see anything," said Gwen.

"Nor me. What is it we're supposed to have missed?" demanded Owen.

"Size ten." This came from Ianto and the others looked at him in consternation. "At the bottom of the footprint, it says size ten," continued Ianto with a smile. "Wellingtons?" he asked Jack.

"Well spotted." Jack smiled back him.

"Don't look like any Wellingtons I've ever seen," said Owen. "The toes are all pointy."

"Wellingtons with modifications. But, we've spent enough time on this. Back to work, kids." He turned round and went into the office, sitting at his desk.

"Well," said Toshiko, clearing her screens, "at least that solved the mystery."

"Not quite," said Ianto slowly. The others looked at him. "How did Jack make the footprints?"

* * *

_I'll leave you to fathom that one out …_


	47. The Christmas Fairy

**The Christmas Fairy**

Ianto Jones was shattered. It was 2.45am on Christmas Day and he and Jack had been out chasing Weevils then locating some visiting Newoks who had decided to vacation in Cardiff. They had chased all over the city trying to get the aliens back to their spacecraft and thence back home. Finally they'd managed it and Jack had dropped him off at his flat before going on to the Hub with the Weevil.

Ianto wandered through the bare flat into the kitchen and saw on the table the list he had drawn up of all the things he had to do in order to be ready for Christmas lunch with his mother. They were eating here then going on to Rhiannon and Johnny's to see the kids when the worst of the Christmas excitement was over. It was the first time he'd invited his mother to this new flat and he wanted it all to be perfect. It wasn't going to be now. He had done nothing for the meal other than buy the makings. It was going to be a fiasco. He went to the freezer and removed the pork joint and set it on the side; he could at least get that defrosted. As for the rest …. No, he was just too tired to even think about it.

He walked to the bedroom, stripped and dropped into bed. He would get up early enough to prepare the vegetables and decorate the tree and all the hundred and one other tasks he had so carefully put on his list. He reached for the alarm clock and set it for six o'clock, that should give him time. He closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds.

He woke to a dull, misty morning. It was light outside the window which surprised him. Surely it was still dark before six? He looked over at the clock and saw the time – 9.15. Ianto shot out of bed like a scalded cat. His mother would be here in a little over three hours and he had done nothing to get ready. He grabbed a pair of jeans and put them on, hopping from one leg to another as he tried, at the same time, to walk to the kitchen. He fell out of the bedroom into the living room in a little heap. Rubbing his elbow which had taken a knock, he stood and gaped.

The living room which only a few hours earlier had been bare now contained a fully decorated Christmas tree, candles and some bunches of holly. Cards which had been in a pile were now strung up along the walls. Ianto shut his eyes and opened them again; it was all still there. He moved to the kitchen and poked his head round the door. Saucepans stood on the stove which, when he looked inside, had sprouts, carrots and swede all ready to be cooked. Potatoes were in another pan with the parsnips and the pudding was in a steamer. On the side, the pork had been placed in a roasting dish. Apple sauce and stuffing were in pots ready to be placed in the oven and heated through. On one side, the crockery and cutlery he planned to use had been washed and set ready for the table to be laid. Even the tablecloth and napkins had been ironed.

Turning, Ianto saw his list still on the table. Each item he had so carefully included had a tick beside it except two – lay the table and shower and dress. He sat down in a chair and saw the glass of juice waiting there; he drank it. Who had done all this? More intriguingly, how had it been done so quietly? He found out when the front door opened. Ianto sprang up and went into the living room to see ….

"Jack?"

"Oh, you're awake. I couldn't find any decent wine so I nipped back to the Hub and got this. I put it down a while ago and it's aged very well. And I couldn't find any chestnuts. They're really good with sprouts but nowhere's open so I couldn't get any." He walked past Ianto into the kitchen and placed the two bottles of red wine on the side.

"Jack?"

"What?"

"You did all this?" Ianto felt particularly slow this morning and sounded it.

"Uh huh. I could see you were exhausted last night. Think of it as a Christmas present." He went to the box of crackers and opened them, getting out two and putting them on the side.

"Why? Why did you do it?"

"Because you want to make a good impression on your mother. I don't see why Torchwood should interfere with that." He smiled.

"I don't know what to say." Ianto was at a loss for two reasons. First, he was really touched that Jack had gone to all this trouble. Second, for not believing that Jack would be able to do it.

"Then don't say anything. I made some brandy butter earlier but I'd like your opinion." He went to the fridge and took out a plastic container and opened it. He put a little onto a spoon and held it out to Ianto. "Enough brandy?"

Ianto tried it. "Yes, just right."

"Good." Jack placed it in a fancy dish and then washed up the container and spoon. "I'll be off then, if you think you can manage now." He looked over enquiringly.

"Yes, thanks." Ianto shook himself. "No, sorry, Jack. Stay and eat with us. There's more than enough."

"No, thanks." Jack shook his head. "This is your time away from Torchwood. I don't want to see you again until the 27th. Okay?" He placed a quick kiss on Ianto's lips and was off out of the door.

"Jack," called Ianto.

"What?"

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Ianto."

* * *

_I wrote this last year but decided not to post it. Looking at it again, I decided to go ahead this time. Hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas - Jay_


	48. A Night Out

_This started out as a New Year story but I then decided to set it after They Keep Killing Suzie and before Random Shoes which is totally the wrong timeframe. However, I'll still post it now. Hope you enjoy it._

* * *

**A Night Out**

It had seemed a good idea three weeks before when she had bought the tickets. A night out for the team when they could forget about aliens, danger and resurrected team-mates and have a good time. The organisers promised lots of drink, a decent buffet and live music. Having to find a fancy dress costume just added to the enjoyment, or so Gwen had thought, especially when she pictured the fun she and Owen could have choosing theirs. Now she was not so sure. Her generous impulse had been criticised by everyone except Jack – who had been enthusiastic from the start. Now she felt like throwing in the towel and not bothering.

"All right, all right, just shut up the lot of you," she said, throwing down her pen and glaring round the Boardroom table at the others. "All you've done is carp on and on about this evening. If you don't want to come, don't. I really don't fucking care any more." With that she stood up, grabbed her papers and stormed out of the room.

"You're bloody ungrateful, the lot of you," said Owen, shoving his chair back. "She's doing this to thank us for looking out for her when Suzie came back from the dead. Can't you at least be civil!?" He stood and followed Gwen and found her at her desk, banging and crashing about as she packed up her things.

"Suppose you don't want to come either!" she accused.

"'Cos I do. You know me, any chance to be with you." He sidled closer. "It's only the fancy dress bit I think's naff. But," he held up his hands in mock surrender, "now I've seen your costume I'm even up for that." He grinned. They had gone to the hire shop together and giggled as they tried on costume after costume.

"What's with that lot?" she said, looking up at the glass-walled Boardroom where their colleagues were still seated round the table. She sighed suddenly. "Let's go."

A few minutes later, she and Owen were walking through to the underground car park. In Owen's car they snogged for a bit, needing the contact, before Owen drove them to his flat. Rhys was away at a cousin's wedding that Gwen had ducked out of at the last minute, lying about the need to work just so she could be with Owen all night. With a couple of hours to kill, Owen didn't need to do a lot of tempting to get Gwen into bed. They made love, slowly and languorously, before sharing a bubble bath and a bottle of champagne Owen had bought specially. By the time they'd finished, they were in a great mood and even a phone call from Rhys didn't spoil it. They giggled as they got dressed in their costumes.

At a little before seven o'clock, they stood side by side in front of the large, full-length mirror. Reflected back to them were two very different people from normal and it sobered them slightly. Gwen was resplendent in a long red gown with a large skirt and very low neckline with showed off her ample breasts to perfection. Her hair was gathered at the back and she had loose curls framing her face. She was pleased with the look but wondered about the colour of the gown; was it too obvious she was a scarlet woman? Beside her Owen was no less resplendent in his admiral's uniform, the gold braid on the navy blue coat glistening in the light while the white breeches and stockings leading down to buckled shoes revealed well shaped legs. He thought he looked a complete twat but was prepared to go along with it as Gwen looked magnificent.

"We're ready then," she said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah." He turned to her and held out a hand. "Would you do me the great honour of accompanying me to the ball, Lady Hamilton?"

She placed one of her gloved hands in his, smiling broadly and giving a small curtsy. "I should be delighted, Lord Nelson."

A few minutes later, the door bell announced the arrival of the taxi and they rushed round to get their things together before leaving the flat, laughing in anticipation of the night ahead.

Across the city, Ianto was waiting patiently for Jack to finish dressing. The older man was taking ages and being very secretive. They had chosen their costumes separately, Ianto in resigned acceptance and Jack in barely suppressed excitement. Of course at that time, three weeks ago, the two men had only slept together once, after Suzie Costello's unexpected return. In the intervening weeks they had got together half a dozen more times and now Ianto was looking forward to the evening, his first chance to be out socially with Jack, providing the Torchwood leader behaved himself. Ianto didn't want their fledgling … relationship ruined before it had a chance.

"What do you think?" asked Jack, emerging from the hatch that led to his quarters. He walked out of the office and did a twirl.

Ianto turned and looked, surprised by the sight of Jack in full highland dress. The snug black jacket and neat kilt that came down to just above his knees showed off his figure better than his usual 1940s' gear. The knee length socks and black pumps finished off the outfit to perfection.

"Very nice," said Ianto, falling back on his usual understatement.

"Very nice!? You could be a bit more enthusiastic!"

Jack walked over to Ianto and took him by the shoulders, turning him round in a complete circle while looking him up and down. The Welshman was dressed as an Edwardian gentleman in frock coat, waistcoat, high collar, fancy tie and narrow trousers. It was similar to his usual suits but this made him look taller and thinner, more distinguished. Pleasant images flashed through Jack's mind as he imagined removing the costume later.

"Sorry. You look great," said Ianto with a smile. "Though I hope you've got something on under that kilt."

"Want to look and find out?" Jack waggled his eyebrows.

"No thanks. Not yet anyway." They smiled, understanding one another.

Jack hugged him, delighted at uncovering more of the young man's sexy nature. "But you, you look gorgeous. Got a hat to go with that?"

"Uh huh." He gestured to the coffee table where the top hat sat in its box alongside a walking cane. "Don't think I need it though."

"Yes you do." He placed the hat on Ianto's head at a jaunty angle and stepped back. "Oh yeah."

Ianto ducked to look in the mirror on the wall and was pleased with how he looked but was determined not to say so. He turned back to Jack. "What's in your sporran?"

"Mobile, credit card, SUV keys. Can't get the Webley in." Jack grinned. "Have to rely on my dirk." He twisted his right leg to show the small knife tucked down his sock.

"Are you expecting trouble?"

"Always. Come on, time to go and get Tosh. What do you think she'll have chosen."

"Geisha?"

"Nah, too obvious."

The two men left the Hub through the garage door and climbed into the SUV. Jack made a great fuss of getting his kilt straight before he was ready to start the engine and drive off. Ianto rested his hand on the bare knee closest him; there was something to be said for kilts. The journey through the early evening traffic was sedate by Jack's standards and they arrived safely at Pontcanna, managing to find a parking space not far from Toshiko's flat in a row of converted terraced houses.

Inside the flat, Toshiko was feeling cross. She did not want to go to this stupid dance where Gwen and Owen would flaunt themselves in front of her. If it hadn't been for Jack shaming her into being there, she would have cried off. She still could, she thought, she could say she was unwell. The door bell rang as she was picking up her mobile to call in, stopping her in her tracks; if that was Jack, he was in the nick of time.

"Hi, Tosh," Jack said when she opened the door. He walked into her large kitchen and living area, Ianto following. "You going in that?" He nodded towards her dressing gown.

"Of course she's not," said Ianto, shutting the front door.

"I'm not sure whether I want to go," she began but was cut off.

"See, that's why I'm here to help you." Jack took both her hands in his and stared deeply into her eyes. "I want you to come. Ianto wants you to come. You can ignore Gwen and Owen all night if you like, but we won't ignore you."

"Absolutely." Ianto nodded and smiled.

"How can I say no to such … handsome escorts." She managed a laugh. "You two look great."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am. Now off you go. I'll be in to help if you're not back in five minutes." Jack grinned and released her hands, pushing her in the direction of the bedroom. "We'll nose around here and see what secrets we can unearth."

"No we won't!" protested Ianto. "But be quick, don't know how long I'll be able to control him."

Toshiko went off to the bedroom to the sound of the two men amiably arguing. She finished off her hair, putting it into two bunches and touched up her make up before putting on the costume. Standing in front of the mirror she wondered if it had been such a sensible choice but in the shop she had been irritated by the assistant's assumption that she would want to be a geisha. She may be Japanese but that didn't mean she couldn't want to be something else, that was the whole point of fancy dress. With a sigh she picked up her small purse with the long strap which she put over her head to hang across her body. This was as good as she was going to get.

Jack and Ianto were on the couch when Toshiko emerged from the bedroom. They looked her over from her bunches, to her pink cardigan over a round collared blouse to the full pink skirt with seemingly hundreds of stiff petticoats and finally to her short socks and sneaker clad feet. She made an adorable 1950s' bobbysoxer.

"Whoa, fabulous!" cried Jack, bounding up and twirling her round. He started to jive with her but she was uncoordinated; dancing was another of the many social skills she had never learned.

"You be careful, sir, don't want to flash her," cautioned Ianto with a straight face. "Or me, come to that."

"Oh no, surely he's …" her voice tailed off.

"He wouldn't say and luckily he hasn't felt obliged to show me," said Ianto with a smile. "Come on, time we were off."

"You don't really think I'd spoil the whole costume by wearing underpants?" complained Jack, following them to the front door.

The hall had been decorated with heavy drapes. Small lights on each table supplemented the elaborate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A raised dais at one end held the band and the buffet tables – yet to be covered with food – were down one side of the long room. Gwen and Owen walked over to their table, past other couples and groups in varied costumes. Owen thought Gwen outshone all the other women and was proud to have her on his arm. The table was empty - the others had not arrived - and Gwen sighed as she slipped into the chair Owen held out for her.

"Do you think they'll come?" she asked as Owen sat beside her.

"I don't know. But if they don't, it's their loss and my gain. I'll have you all to myself." He grinned at her, resting his arm across the back of her chair.

She closed the gap between them and kissed him on the lips. "You're saying all the right things tonight." It wasn't always like that; the doctor had an acerbic tongue and could hurt without noticing. It was one of the many things about him that were beginning to grate as she spent more time in his company.

They stayed at the table for the next quarter of an hour, watching the other people and sipping wine. The room filled up and most tables were occupied by the time Gwen spotted Ianto across the room. He was instantly recognisable even in his costume and she smiled; if he had come the others would have too. Ianto looked over towards Gwen and she waved.

"They're here then," muttered Owen, having caught the movement.

"Yeah. Let's hope they enjoy it." She saw Ianto start towards them with Toshiko who stood out in her brightly coloured costume. Gwen looked for Jack but couldn't see him in the throng of late arrivals.

"Sorry we're late," said Ianto, handing Toshiko into a seat then sitting between her and Owen.

"No problem. You both look great."

"Jack not coming?" asked Owen. He was studying Toshiko sitting opposite him, surprised at her choice of costume and thinking how different she looked.

"He got a call, just as we were coming in. He won't be long." Ianto smiled, remembering the ring tone emanating from Jack's crotch – very erotic. "Wine, Tosh?" He reached for the bottle of red which he knew she preferred.

"Please. I like your costumes," she said, looking at Owen and Gwen. Privately she thought Gwen looked under dressed – she'd burst out of the top if she wasn't careful – and did she really think no one would see the link between the colour and her promiscuous behaviour?

"I'm Lady Hamilton and Owen's Nelson," smiled Gwen, oblivious of the irony.

"One of the great love stories," commented Ianto, raising his glass in a toast. He only realised what he'd said when Toshiko kicked him under the table. There was an awkward pause as everyone tried to find something non-controversial to say.

"More wine, Gwen?" asked Owen, reaching for the bottle of white.

"Umm."

"Hey, kids, sorry about that." Jack bounded up to join them, his kilt flaring out nicely as he moved. "The PM can't go two minutes without needing my expert help." He grinned at Owen, "Hello, sailor!" Sitting between Gwen and Toshiko he eyed Gwen. "Wow, you look great," he told her, his eyes drawn to the expanse of bosom on display.

"Wine, Jack?" asked Ianto from across the table, irritated by his boss's obvious attraction to Gwen. She was batting her eyelids and simpering and Owen looked murderous, laying a possessive hand on Gwen's bare shoulder.

"Ah … no, thanks, I'll stick to water." He reached to the carafe and poured himself a glass.

"I never expected you to wear that," said Gwen, leaning in close to Jack. She brushed a hand across his jacket, removing an imaginary piece of lint. "You look very dashing."

The evening continued in this vein and everyone but Gwen and Jack ended up either embarrassed or irritated. Toshiko drank too much and tried to ignore the way Owen looked at Gwen; Ianto drank less but retreated into his shell, speaking only occasionally as he watched Jack and Gwen flirt; and Owen fumed as his carefully laid plans for the evening went awry. Gwen enjoyed herself, flirting with Jack and making the most of the dances they had, sure that everyone else in the room envied her.

Of the all of them, Jack seemed oblivious to these undercurrents but was actually the most observant of the lot. He could feel the hostility flowing from Owen and enjoyed frustrating him, knowing that the doctor wanted Gwen all to himself and loving being an impediment. He was sorry for Toshiko but decided she had to toughen up if she wanted to stand any chance of winning Owen for herself. Jack was in two minds about Ianto. He didn't want to hurt the Welshman unnecessarily but he also wanted to make sure he realised that he - Jack – played the field and always would no matter what the pair of them got up to.

At midnight the band announced the last dance. Gwen grinned at Jack, confidently expecting him to ask her for the dance. She was astonished when he turned to Toshiko instead and helped the tipsy woman to her feet and led her onto the dance floor. Recovering her composure, Gwen turned to Owen with a brilliant smile and the pair of them followed their colleagues. Ianto sat and watched them go. He had danced with both Gwen and Toshiko, and a woman from the table behind them whom he vaguely knew, and was not perturbed at being left alone at the table.

"Ianto, come on, join Tosh and me," urged Jack, suddenly at his side. Leaning closer, he whispered, "We could ditch Tosh if you prefer."

"No, don't do that." Ianto stood and joined Jack and Toshiko on the floor, managing a strange threesome around the floor. He was surprised how much he wanted to be in Jack's arms for a really romantic dance.

The music died and the party-goers returned to their tables to collect bags and other belongings. The Torchwood team walked with the crowd to the door, Gwen on Owen's arm and Toshiko discreetly supported by Ianto. Jack led the way and insisted on taking them all home in the SUV.

"Gwen, you'd better get up front. Can't see you fitting in the back in that dress. The rest of you, hop in." He handed Gwen in and pushed her excess skirts in too before closing the door. Ianto and Owen flanked Toshiko on the back seat, her skirts billowing out over their legs.

Owen fumed as they drove through the city streets. Gwen was supposed to be coming back with him, how were they going to be able to arrange that now Jack had taken over? Toshiko rested her head on Ianto's shoulder and closed her eyes, fighting the faint nausea that was threatening to overcome her. Ianto kept careful watch on her, recognising the signs, and cracked the window open so she could get some air.

"Where am I dropping you, Gwen?" asked Jack quietly, his voice low enough to be drowned by the engine noise. "Home or Owen's place?"

Her brief moment of hope that he was asking her to spend the night with him died before she had a chance to make a fool of herself. "Owen's. I left my car there." She didn't need to explain or to feel guilty - Jack would never comment on her choices – but she did just the same.

"Okay." He said no more, just made for Panama Quay and stopped before the modern glass building that contained Owen's flat. "Owen, will you see Gwen to her car?" he asked.

"Sure." The doctor was out of the vehicle and assisted Gwen down, pleased that she had managed to find a reason for being dropped here.

"Gwen, thanks for a great evening," said Jack with a smile. "I've really enjoyed myself."

"Yes, thanks Gwen," came from Ianto.

"Umm, thanks. It's been … fun," managed Toshiko.

"Glad you all enjoyed it." Gwen managed to smile at all of them before closing the door. She and Owen stood and watched as the SUV drove off, waving until it was out of sight then went inside. Both were determined to enjoy the rest of the night.

After dropping off Toshiko and making sure she would be all right, Jack and Ianto got back into the SUV. "Coming back to the Hub?" asked Jack casually.

"Yes, my car's there. And my ordinary clothes."

"That wasn't what I meant." Jack's hand strayed onto Ianto's thigh, squeezed then returned to the steering wheel to negotiate a corner.

"It does seem a bit pointless to go home. I'd barely get in before I had to leave again." He glanced at Jack and smiled. This man may have flirted with Gwen but he was going home with him, Ianto. "Besides, I still haven't seen under that kilt." His hand slid under the tartan and slowly made its way up bare thigh and found … more bare flesh.

* * *

_Happy New Year, may 2010 be kind to you - Jay_


	49. Baby Troubles

**Baby Troubles**

The bombshell, when it came, was timed to perfection. Owen emerged from the medical bay as Gwen powered down her PC and Toshiko was putting her spectacles in their case, both women ready to go home after a long day. Ianto was in the office chivving Jack to do some overdue paperwork though both men were too tired to do the exchange justice.

"Jack," announced Owen loudly, "we have a problem." He dumped a file on his desk and waited.

He had everyone's attention. Jack got up from his desk and walked round it and out of the office, past Ianto who stepped to one side before following his boss out into the work area. Gwen suppressed a groan of frustration and looked across. Toshiko placed the spectacles case on her desk and looked up with tired interest.

"What is it?" asked Jack, recognising Owen's expression. The doctor was not messing about – for once – this was serious.

"It just gave birth."

"It had a baby?" queried Gwen, rising from her desk and coming to join them.

"I just said that!" Owen scowled at her then turned back to Jack. "It's definite."

"How long ago? I mean, since it came through the Rift?" Jack had his arms folded across his chest. He was thinking of the consequences, for the child and for anyone who found it, dozens of options being assessed and either accepted or rejected. A plan was forming in his mind even as he waited for Owen to answer.

"Yeah. More than twelve hours ago but less than forty eight. I should be able to narrow that down a bit when some of the test results come through." He knew that this meant trouble. It had taken them two days to find the Quentor and it was an adult; finding the much smaller offspring would be even more difficult.

"How many?"

"Far as I can tell, this was a first pregnancy so," Owen shrugged, "probably three."

"She had more than one baby?" asked Gwen, now standing beside Ianto outside the office.

"Christ, you're a bleeding Einstein today! That's what I just said." Owen scowled at her again. "And Quentors aren't male and female. It's an it."

"They reproduduce asexually," explained Jack, smiling at Gwen. His mind was still tossing around the the various courses of action open to them but a moment or two explaining the situation would help all the team, not just Gwen. "No one's sure exactly what triggers it, but buds form on their side and make their way into a pouch where they grow until mature enough to live separately from the parent."

"I thought they were closer to human than that," put in Ianto. The Quentor looked human which is why it had been so difficult to locate, even their scans had been unable to distinguish it from the rest of the population until the trail of assaults had led them to it.

"They look like us physically but there are some bloody enormous differences," replied Owen. "The point is, what are we going to do about it?"

"Find them before they need to eat. Tosh, we need to track the Quentor from where we found it in Gabalfa back to the Rift opening that brought it here." Jack looked across at her, waiting for her reaction.

"I can try but there are so many possibilities." Toshiko was looking thoughtful and concerned. "Every junction gives so many options, checking them all will take a while. And the CCTV round there isn't good at the best of times but with all the vandalism ..." her voice tailed off.

"I know, Tosh, but it's the only way. With the solar flares mucking up our Rift alerts we can't do it from the other end." The solar activity had been intense and had blotted out a number of Rift alerts leaving the Torchwood team to chase their tails as they charged round Cardiff mopping up incidents they would normally have been on the spot to prevent.

"I'm on it." She smiled and reached for her spectacles again. Her eyes were tired after working for fifteen hours at her screens but that was not going to stop her getting on with the job.

"Gwen, we need to know of any infants found in the last few days. Go back seventy two hours from the time we found the Quentor just to be sure and check hospitals, orphanages, police reports. You know what to do." Jack smiled at her warmly; she was an excellent investigator. "Call your buddies on the police too, in case anything has yet to be reported."

"Would it … they have survived this long?" asked Ianto. "It's pretty cold out there for a newborn."

"They're bigger than newborn humans," replied Jack. "Owen, how big do you think?"

"In human terms? You're looking for two to four year olds. Something like that."

"They grow that fast?" Gwen was astounded.

"They're born that way. And they won't necessarily be together. Could well have crawled out of the pouch independently after the parent was injured coming through the Rift." Owen rubbed his face and tried to keep himself awake. "They'll be able to walk but not talk, not English anyway."

Gwen considered carrying a child of two or three years old, more than one. How did the Quentor manage? Wouldn't she … it find the load too heavy? Babies were a subject Gwen had been researching for a while, ever since she and Rhys had talked about having a family. That was still a long way off, not to be decided until after the wedding, the planning of which was taking up all her spare time, but that had not stopped Gwen imagining what it would feel like to be pregnant. She had even spoken to Susy, Big Dave's wife, about it when she'd been carrying her last one not that she got a lot of sense from her. Never did from Rhys' friends.

"Will it speak ... Quentor?" asked Ianto. He had his hands in his pockets and made an effort to straighten his shoulders which had slumped with tiredness.

"Possibly. No idea what that sounds like though," said Owen. "I'll carry on with the post-mortem and hurry up the test results. If I find anything else, I'll let you know." He went back into the medical bay.

"It'd sound a bit like Chinese," said Jack, answering Ianto's question and smiling at him. He knew how tired his team were but three young Quentor couldn't be left to their own devices. As they gained in strength they'd need to drink and would attack anyone who was close by to take their blood in the same way as their parent had. "Ianto, you help Gwen. Tosh, can I do anything for you?"

"Not with the CCTV. You could try and clean up the Rift stuff, might give us a lead." Toshiko turned to her keyboard and screens and got on with her work.

"If all else fails, there is the paperwork," said Ianto dryly as he and Gwen went to her desk to decide how to split up their research.

Jack grinned wryly and went back to his own desk and the Rift programs. The five team members worked solidly for the next two hours at their alloted tasks and it was close to nine o'clock when Jack called a meeting to discuss findings. Ianto made coffee and produced fried chicken and chips for those that wanted food, placing everything on the boardroom table.

"Okay, let's make this short as we can. Owen, any more?" asked Jack before biting into his chicken leg.

"The deterioration of the Quentor's tissue began fifty two hours ago. Most of that was caused by the Rift, travelling through it and being dumped here. So, best guess, it arrived around teatime on Sunday." He reached for a couple of chips and stuffed them into his mouth. He was as tired as the rest, and hungry.

"After the solar flares started," confirmed Jack grimly. He hated being in the dark about the Rift. It was bad enough not knowing precisely when it would open or what would fall through but being unaware of an opening even after the fact was worse. He checked his notes. "I think, I stress think, that the Rift opened three times late Sunday afternoon. At fiveish in Canton, an hour later in Penarth and after that in Tremorfa."

"Wouldn't the Canton one have been the eggs?" asked Gwen, remembering the slimy things that had hatched into pink lizards and set up home in St David's Hospital's A&E.

"Probably but we can't be sure."

Toshiko was tapping away at the keyboard in front of her. "I'm bringing up the CCTV for the area of the possible opening in Canton and … not the lizards." The grainy black and white picture on the large screen showed a brilliant flash of light which dissolved into the form of a Levantuk warrior.

"Shit! Where did that go!?" exclaimed Owen. They had not known the alien was loose in Cardiff.

"I can track it," said Toshiko continuing with the task. "It was down near the railway line then moved - "

Jack stopped her. "You carry on with that, Tosh, while we get on with finding the Quentor kids." Now they needed to locate the warrior AND the Quentor's offspring. "Gwen, any joy?" He stuffed more chicken in his mouth and began to chew.

Looking away from her boss – his table manners were appalling – she glanced at her notes. "One toddler, thought to be three, was found in Grangetown, by the station, at four yesterday afternoon. It was taken to the Royal Infirmary. The hospital is calling her – they reckon it's a girl – Matilda." Gwen passed copies of a photograph of the child around the table. "Is that a Quentor?"

"Could be," said Owen, wiping his mouth with a napkin before picking up the photo. "At that age the only sure way to tell is to locate the spinal growth, not something a hospital would look for or recognise if it did."

"Okay, you get over there and check. If it's one of ours, bring it back with you." Jack looked back at Gwen. "Any more?"

"Not found by the police or hospitals. Could be they were found by someone who didn't want to get involved. We're checking Social Services and churches now, they're good dumping places, but the records are slow to be updated."

"Okay. You keep on that, Gwen. Tosh, did you get anything from the CCTV?"

"It appears the Quentor crossed the river by the Western Avenue bridge. I've got it there at midnight on Monday. But what about the Levantuk? Those things are dangerous."

"Have you located it?"

"Last seen on a derelict industrial estate in Broad Street. That was twelve hours ago. I've also found police reports of a spate of attacks on civilians between there and the site of the opening. Police thought they were muggings but it looks more like the Levantuk." Toshiko removed her spectacles and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "The estate is the sort of place it would choose to hole up."

"Right." Jack thought through the demands on his team again and decided how to best utilise the available manpower. "Here's what we do. Owen, the hospital. Gwen, carry on with the research. Ianto, Tosh, you're with me. We'll get the Levantuk."

"I should come with you," protested Gwen. She didn't like staying in the Hub when there was action to be had. "Ianto can do the research, he's good at that."

Like the others, Ianto got the inference: he was good at research and not so good out in the field. He thought that was unfair coming from Gwen who had been the one to encourage him to take on more fieldwork when Jack had been missing with The Doctor. Seemed that now Jack was back she was ready to relegate Ianto to the background again. There was a tense silence as Jack looked at her closely then at Ianto. He caught the latter's imperceptible nod and small smile. The others were oblivious of the exchange; Owen and Toshiko were looking at their papers and Gwen was watching Jack's face. But Jack felt a small rush of pleasure at this evidence that his and Ianto's relationship was stronger than it had been before he'd left.

"If that's okay with you, Ianto?" Jack asked for form's sake. He wanted the others to realise he was not swayed solely by Gwen's plea.

"Fine with me. I'll get the Newok blasters, you'll need them for a Levantuk."

Ianto stood up and the others followed suit. Ten minutes later, the Welshman was alone in the Hub. He sat at Gwen's desk to continue the research, using her notes as reference for searching the less obvious organisations that might have been the recipient of an abandoned child. After half an hour's painstaking work he had a lead on another child. A girl had been found in St John's Street, Penarth outside the old National Children's Home, on Monday just after midday. It had been taken in by Cardiff's Social Services – who were only now updating their records - and was in emergency foster care with Dot and Harry Roberts. Ianto called Owen with the details and the doctor agreed to head that way when he was finished at the hospital.

After another half an hour's searching, Ianto was beginning to run out of places to look. It was possible that there had only been two Quentor children but Owen had said three and he was usually reliable on medical matters. Ianto was about to check on reported deaths when the main Hub phone rang. This happened so seldom he sat motionless for a few moments before answering it.

"Hello?"

"_Ah, now that would be Ianto. I recognise your lovely accent." _

Ianto recognised the woman's Irish brogue too. It was Sister Marie Therese, the nun with an alien symbiont inside her who – in another life, kind of – had known Jack. Had known him very well indeed. In the weeks since she had met the rest of the Torchwood team, she had visited and had a tour of the Hub and, Ianto knew, had lunch with Jack on a couple of occasions. It was an odd relationship for Ianto to get his head around but he liked the woman and believed, he hoped correctly, that she was just a friend to Jack.

"Sister Marie Therese, isn't this a bit late for you to call?" Ianto could see the time displayed on the phone: 10.26.

"_Well, it is and it isn't. Normally I'd be fast asleep in my little bed dreaming of Jesus but I'm busy with a visitor. One I think might be for you." _

"What kind of visitor?" Ianto grabbed a pen and piece of paper, ready to make notes and hoping it wasn't going to delay his sleep for too much longer.

"_A young one. Now, I didn't think anything of it when we found her this morning but now she's warm and comfortable she's starting to talk. In Quentor, if I'm not mistaken." _

Ianto smiled, number three had been found. "We are looking for one. Well, three actually but we think we have the other two. When did you find this one?"

"_At Matins, which we have at sunrise, thank and bless the Lord. It used to be two am in my old convent! She was very cold and it's only now she's talking." _

Ianto thought quickly. Owen had his hands full with two Quentor children, if that's what they proved to be, and this one was already identified. Jack and the others were still trying to track down the Levantuk in an old factory; they wouldn't want to be bothered with this. A quick trip to Ely seemed to be in order. He – Ianto – could pick the child up and bring it back while the others were out.

"You're sure it's talking Quentor?"

"_Revenal is and I trust him to know."_ Marie Therese was talking of her symbiont, a Symollazine that lived in her chest and shared its memories with the young nun.

"I'll come and take a look. Be about half an hour."

"_I'll wait up for you."_ Even over the phoneline, Ianto could hear the amusement in her voice.

The Torchwood team, all out of the Hub, communicated via their comms system. Owen confirmed that the first child was one of the Quentor babies and requested urgent help in looking after it; childcare had never been his strong suit. Jack reported that the Levantuk warrior had been subdued. When Ianto told them he was headed to the convent it was agreed he should continue while Jack, Toshiko and Gwen drove to the Roberts' home to meet Owen and help him.

At the convent, the portress admitted Ianto and he waited in a large and airy hallway. He looked around with interest, surprised by the ordinariness of the building. It looked like a normal home, larger than most, of course, but with that air of lived-in shabbiness that he recognised from his own family home. The only indication that this was a religious house was the large crucifix on the wall and the Madonna and child on a side table.

"Welcome to our House," said Marie Therese, having come through a door soundlessly. She smiled when Ianto started in surprise. "I suppose you want to see the child, little Mary."

"Is that what you've called it?" smiled Ianto.

"We're traditional here and the name seemed fitting. I call it 'her' so as not to frighten the others," she added confidentially. Her eyes were dancing with supressed amusement as they always did when she met Ianto. During the lunches she and Jack had shared, he had spoken of the Welshman a lot, without discretion or regard to a nun's sensibilities. As a result, Marie Therese knew a lot about the two men's relationship, emotional and physical, which would have appalled Ianto if he had known. "This way."

"How was it you found her?" he asked, falling into step beside her.

"You'll be disappointed, it was all very ordinary. She was on the step when Sister Marie Joseph brought the milk in."

Ianto smiled at this additional evidence of domesticity. He had always assumed nuns spent all their time praying or perhaps nursing. Finding they brought in the milk like everyone else and lived in such ordinary surroundings was making him revise his expectations.

"Poor wee thing was wet and cold," went on the nun, leading them up a curving staircase, "so we brought her in and cared for her. She's very cute."

"You didn't report finding her," ventured Ianto, raising an eyebrow.

"Umm." She sighed. "The Sisters rather took to her. It's been a long time since we've had a child to care for and, well, they all wanted the opportunity to nurse her."

Ianto said nothing. He could imagine this community of women becoming totally gaga over the child and who could blame them delaying a notification for a few hours. He followed the nun up the stairs and down a short passage to a door which she opened quietly. Inside, a child lay in a narrow bed sleeping peacefully. An older nun was sitting in a chair by the window and stood up when the newcomers came into the room.

"Mother Superior, this is Mr Ianto Jones from Torchwood," said Marie Therese. She then stepped aside and went to the bed, looking down at the child.

"Thank you for coming. Sister Marie Therese has explained to us about this little girl." She saw the questioning look that Ianto flashed to Marie Therese. "That she's an alien," the Mother Superior added with a smile.

"I have no secrets from the Reverent Mother," explained Marie Therese.

"I see." Ianto relaxed and smiled at the older nun. "May I examine the child? I need to check if she really is an alien." Owen had told him what to look for.

"Of course." The older nun's cultured English accent made the words sound like the bestowal of a great favour.

He moved to the side of the bed and gently pulled down the covers, reaching to turn the small body onto its side, facing away from him. He ran his hand over her lower spine and soon found the spiky growth that identified her as a Quentor. The child slept through the examination.

"Is she … what you expected?" asked the Mother Superior.

"Yes, ma'am, she's a Quentor. We'll take her off your hands."

"She's not bothering us, Ianto!" protested Marie Therese. "To hear you talk, anyone would think we wanted to be rid of her."

"Sister," said the older nun in quiet admonishment. "Mr Jones, what will become of the child?"

Ianto looked at her and met the penetrating gaze of serene grey eyes. He had not thought about the next step. Quentors needed human blood to survive. They drank only a little however; the adult Quentor had taken barely half a pint from each of its three victims and all had survived. Ianto did not know what Jack would do with the three youngsters. He couldn't imagine them living in the community but they couldn't stay in the Hub either.

"I'm not sure, ma'am," he said finally. "The important thing is to keep them safe and -"

"Them?" she said sharply. "There's more than one?"

"Yes. There are three children. But you should know, ma'am," he went on quickly, "that they drink human blood. It's not safe to leave them loose in the community."

"It's also not safe to have them in your base!" retorted Sister Marie Therese. She turned to the Mother Superior. "Reverent Mother, with your permission, I'd like to go with this young man and make sure Mary and her sisters are properly cared for. I know Captain Harkness and I know exactly what he might do to these poor innocents!" She stroked a hand over the child's hair, a caring counterpoint to her strident tone. "I think someone should be there to speak for the children."

The older nun considered for a moment, head bowed as if in prayer. "Very well, Sister, you have my leave. Keep me informed of your findings and make no judgements until you have all the facts."

Sister Marie Therese smiled broadly. "I'll do that, Reverent Mother."

Ten minutes later, Ianto was driving through Cardiff's streets back to the Hub with Marie Therese and the child in the back seat of his car. He had told Gwen, who with Toshiko had taken the first child, Matilda, back at the base, merely that he was coming in with the third child. Owen and Jack had indentified the other child, named Joy, as Quentor but Social Services were being uncooperative and not allowing them to take it. The two men were currently delayed at the foster parents' house arguing with the social workers.

-ooOoo-

"And aren't they the cutest you've ever seen?" said Marie Therese, looking down at the two Quentor children, asleep on the sofa. A blanket covered them and one, the nun thought it was Mary but couldn't be sure as they were almost identical, had her arm around the other.

"They're adorable," agreed Gwen who was getting more and more broody. She had been back in the Hub for two hours and had hardly left their side.

Marie Therese was sat on the end of the sofa and looked at Gwen with calculating eyes. If she needed an ally in ensuring a happy future for these alien waifs she had one in the Welshwoman. Ianto would not be much help – he would follow Jack no matter what – and Toshiko was not interested in the children as such, they were merely work to her. The nun expected Owen to be clinical and indifferent. And Jack? Marie Therese paused and considered the man who had been a good friend – a very good friend! – to Bert Challenor, Revenal's previous host. It was impossible to predict what Jack would do. He might want to look after the little aliens or … dispose of them. Marie Therese was determined to ensure it was the former.

"What do you know about the Quentor?" asked Gwen from where she was kneeling beside the sofa. It was ridiculous to feel so protective of the aliens, she knew that, and it was ridiculous to want children of her own – impossible while she was working for Torchwood – but these two had touched her heart. They looked entirely human and were indistinguishable from humans on the surface. If only they didn't drink blood.

"I know nothing, dear, but Revenal … he's met them before and liked them. Their world is similar to ours which is why we look like them. But they're a peaceful people; no wars for them! They're artists and musicians."

"Why do they drink blood?"

The nun sighed. "It's like milk to them." She too regretted they needed blood to survive, it would complicate her dealings with Jack.

The cog door rolled back, the alarms sounded and Jack strode into the base his expression stern. Behind him, Owen walked more slowly, keeping a wary eye on the wide-awake young Quentor in his arms.

"These the other two?" Jack asked, looking down on the sleeping children. He was in a bad mood having had an almighty row with the authorities in order to get custody of the third child to top off a busy and frustrating day.

"Yes." Gwen was on her feet reaching for the newcomer. "Hello, little one, come to Auntie Gwen."

"Don't let it get near a vein," warned Owen, pleased to be rid of his charge. "It tried for one of mine on the way down." He nodded at Marie Therese. "Had a feeling you might be here."

"I was knowing you were pining for me," she replied with a smile. They got on well but loved making sarky comments to one another.

"What are you doing here, Bert?" demanded Jack, shrugging off his greatcoat which Ianto took without a word. Jack still thought of the host and symbiont as Bert Challenor and often referred to the nun by that name. "Don't remember inviting you."

"Nice to see you too!" she retorted tartly. "I came with Mary. Mother Superior wants to know what you'll being with her and her sisters." Marie Therese was on her feet, squaring up for a fight.

"They're not female!" protested Owen. He was sick and tired of telling everyone that the lack of external genitals did not make them so.

Marie Therese ignored him, looking at Jack and trying to work out how his mind was working and how best to persuade him to do what she wanted. She decided that he looked tired, as tired as the rest of the team. Gwen had told her how they'd been run off their feet for the past few days chasing down the obscured Rift openings and it showed on all their faces; they were drawn and most had dark shadows under their eyes. Tiredness had made Jack irritable and that was not good. In her experience he was more amenable when he was relaxed. Now, at one fifteen in the morning, he was not going to be easy to convince that her plan – worked out over the past two hours but not yet shared with anyone else – was the best.

"That has nothing to do with you or your blessed Mother Superior!" said Jack, also ignoring Owen. "This is Torchwood business." He turned to Ianto. "Could you make some coffee?"

"Argh!" exclaimed Gwen suddenly, drowning out Ianto's agreement. She was still holding Joy but at arm's-length. "She tried to bite me!"

"I told you to be careful," stormed Owen, already at her side and checking Gwen's arm where small teeth marks had made an impression but not broken the skin.

Toshiko had turned in her chair and was watching with interest. "That's amazing. They just bite into a vein."

Gwen glared at her, not yet over the shock. "Not so amazing from where I'm standing!"

"Give me the child," said Marie Therese, stepping in to take Joy. "If she needs to drink, let's be giving her something."

"She drinks blood," explained Toshiko, thinking the nun had not grasped the implication. If she had been more awake, Toshiko would probably not have made this mistake but she was very tired and wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep.

"I know! Owen, you must be having some in there," she nodded towards the medical bay. "Get it and put it in a mug."

With Jack's nod of agreement, Owen retrieved a bag of blood kept for transfusions and transferred some to a mug supplied by Ianto. The others watched in dread fascination as Marie Therese gave the mug to Joy who clasped it in both hands and drank, a satisfied smile on its lips. When it had drunk a couple of mouthfuls, it snuggled against the nun and closed its eyes, yawning. Marie Therese put it on the sofa with its siblings and it was soon asleep.

"Tosh, stick a containment field around the sofa. Ianto, bring the coffee to the Boardroom; we need to decide what to do with them," indicating the Quentors. "I suppose you'd better come too," he told the nun, resigned to her interference.

Ten minutes later they were gathered round the table drinking coffee, the only thing keeping them awake, and Owen was outlining the life-cycle of Quentors.

"They're shortlived by our standards, five years maximum. Year one, they grow from their present size to the equivalent of a ten year old," he illustrated this with an image on the plasma screen. "Next year, they grow to be adult sized and then have three more years before dying. They look like humans and will pass for them unless examined closely … and no one sees 'em drinking blood."

"Why do they do that?" asked Gwen, looking at the images.

"They need the polymorphonucleocytes."

Gwen looked at Owen not understanding a word. "What?"

"Polymorphonucleocytes. They're found in blood, in the leucocytes. White blood cells to you." The doctor rubbed at tired eyes and drank some more coffee to keep himself awake. "Makes up less than one percent of our blood and they're not found anywhere else."

"Could they be manufactured?" asked Toshiko. "I mean, there's artificial blood."

"That's red blood cells, the oxygen carriers. Not white."

"How much would they be needing?" asked Marie Therese from her seat beside Ianto at the other end of the table to Jack. She had her coffee mug cradled in her hands and looked thoughtful.

"Hard to say. They drink half a pint or so of blood every day but like I said, the polymorphonucleocytes are less than one percent of that."

"But surely these poly-whatsits could be extracted. I can't believe that you can't be doing that, not a clever man like you."

"Yeah, it's possible," answered Owen wearily, draining his coffee.

"I know where you're going with this, Sister," said Jack from the head of the table, his tone stern. His use of her title showed clearly that he was not in a mood to be trifled with. "But it's not going to work. We have three Quentor now. In two years' time they'll be budding and there'll be nine more, with another fifteen for the next two years by which time the first brood will be joining in so we'll have sixty nine of them! They breed like rabbits!" He shook his head. "No, they have to be neutralised now."

"Neutralised! Is that what you're calling murder these days!?" The nun was sitting forward, glaring at Jack. "Those three innocents out there have little enough life ahead of them and you want to take little they've got away from them. They didn't ask to be brought to this world. Show some compassion!"

"How can I!? I have to protect the people of this world!" He brought his fist down on the table and the mugs and papers jumped in reponse. "Don't make this any harder."

Marie Therese took a deep, calming breath and spoke quietly. "I'm not wanting to make it harder, I'm wanting to help. We'll take them into the convent - Lord knows it's big enough and empty enough! We'll be looking after them for you."

Jack was shaking his head. "You'll be overrun. No, it won't work."

"I don't understand that," put in Gwen, confused. "What was that about sixty nine of them?"

Owen answered. "The first pregancy will come in their second year and they'll have three kids each. Following year it'll be five and the same the next year. That's thirteen kids each in five years by which time the first lot'll be producing too." He looked at the nun with sympathy but shaking his head. "You can't look after that many."

"They won't bud. It'll only be the three of them," she answered, keeping her eyes trained on Jack. She felt that she might have a chance of convincing him – he never liked taking life when there was an alternative - she just had to chose her words with care.

"How you planning on stopping 'em?" asked Owen, disbelieving but curious.

"They've not got the right nutrients here. They only ever bud on their homeworld." She continued to watch Jack. "You know that, Jack."

"We can't be sure. There's always a first time and Quentors have never been on Earth for any period of time. If we keep them, they could find a way." Jack shook his head. "No, it's too much of a risk."

"Give me a chance, Jack. Trust me to know what I'm talking about." He rolled his eyes in disbelief but she carried on anyway, speaking with force and passion. "If you don't trust me, trust Bert Challenor. When did he ever let you down? You trained him, you considered him one of Torchwood's best operatives. Trust him again now. And trust Revenal, he's lived with Quentors and knows them. Forget the young nun you see when you look at me and remember them because I'm them and they're me. I promise you won't have cause to regret it."

The silence grew as Jack considered what she had said. Bert had been a good operative and Revenal's knowledge and experience was at least as good as Jack's own. With their knowledge and with the power of the Church behind her, this nun probably could do all she promised. But the risk was still there. If one of the Quentors left the convent or started to produce young the citizens of Cardiff would be put in danger, a danger he could erradicate once and for all right now. He looked round at his team; this wasn't a committee but he wanted their views.

Owen shook his head. "I don't think it'll work," he said, with regret.

After a moment of reflection, Toshiko met Jack's gaze and said, "It's too great a risk."

Gwen's expression reflected her caring nature. "Oh, for God's sake!" she exclaimed. "Why do we always have to destroy everything!? These are children and they should be given a chance. Please, Jack, let her try."

In contrast, Ianto's face revealed nothing of his feelings. "Everyone deserves a second chance," said the Welshman quietly.

He met and held Jack's gaze and something passed between them that the others did not understand. Jack understood. Ianto had been devastated by Jack's departure to travel with The Doctor but he had given the Torchwood leader a second chance at rekindling their relationship. Now he was asking Jack to do the same for the Quentor children who had been orphaned by the Rift, to allow them a second chance at life.

After several moments, Jack spoke. "All right. We'll try it." Gwen grinned broadly and Ianto allowed himself a small smile. "But," Jack held up a finger and pointed at the nun, "you answer to me about their care. You do nothing without my say-so. Understood?"

"Understood." Marie Therese smiled at him. "Thank you."

_Epilogue_

All fifteen nuns of the Sisters of Charity Convent were in tears at the Service for Matilda, Mary and Joy who had died within hours of one another five years after arriving on Earth. The three Quentor had provided invaluable lay support to the Sisters and were well loved. As Father Peter spoke the familiar words of the Service, Sister Marie Therese added a prayer of her own for the members of the Torchwood team who had died before their time and for Jack Harkness who, while still alive somewhere, had had the courage to let these three aliens live a full and happy life. She wished the same for him, with all her heart.


	50. MacGyvering

**MacGyvering**

It was raining. A light drizzle that frizzed her hair and Gwen grabbed Rhys' arm to get further under the cover of his umbrella.

"Can't you two wait until you get home?" said Jack, sauntering along beside the couple, hands in the pockets of his greatcoat and oblivious of the rain. Beside him, Ianto was hunched into his mac, head down with water dripping off his hair and down his collar.

Gwen refused to rise to the bait and squeezed her husband's arm when she felt him about to reply. It had been a rare evening off for the four of them and she was not going to spoil it now. Two paces later she felt an oncoming rush of air, smelt manure and looked up in time to see the horse.

"Rhys!" She pulled him backwards and they ended up on the ground. Ignoring her wet backside, she looked down the road but the horse and carriage were gone. "Where'd it go?"

"What're you doing, love? Did you trip?" Rhys helped her up before wiping at his wet jeans.

"There was a horse and … a carriage-thing."

"Hansom cab, late nineteenth century," murmured Jack, concentrating on his vortex manipulator. "Uh-oh."

"What is it, Jack?" Ianto was looking up and down the street for any other apparitions.

"Temporal incursion. Get the scanner."

Ianto caught the SUV keys and jogged to where it was parked, ten metres up the road. He'd unlocked the rear door when the car vanished and the night suddenly got darker. Twirling round he couldn't see Jack or the others. He couldn't see anything he recognised. The road had changed, cobbles reflected in the light of the few streetlamps, and the buildings were grimy and austere, like stern faces frowning at him. A horse and rider appeared and went past him, one or two people walked past on the other side of the road. Ianto stared at them.

"Jack, Ianto just disappeared," said Gwen, walking towards the SUV.

"Get back!" She was grabbed round the waist and returned to Rhys' side before Jack released her. "It could move at any time but we seem to be safe here." He went back to his vortex manipulator then looked around. "Looks like it starts at the back of the SUV but I can't tell how stable it is."

"Then let's find out." She reached for Rhys' umbrella, an old-fashioned one with a spike on the end. With this furled and held out in front of her she edged forward, rewarded when the air around the tip shimmered just where Ianto had been. "Got an edge." She carried on and soon had mapped out a circle of approximately twenty metres diameter around them. "It's not very big. Why's this happening, Jack?"

"Don't know. A weakness in the space-time continuum maybe."

"Are you saying that it's a different time over there?" asked Rhys. "It looks the same." He couldn't see any changes – the vehicles and shops were as always – but there had been a funny light when Gwen had gone round with the umbrella.

"Sometimes time gets mixed up. Like a piece of string that gets a knot in it," explained Jack. He had found a set of small screwdrivers and probes which Rhys was holding while Jack used one and then another to make adjustments to his vortex manipulator. "We're in a kink which, currently, is our time. Move out of here and you pass through into the other time. And it's a one-way door. Gwen, catch. Mark it out on the ground." He nodded in the direction of the circle.

She caught the can of spray paint. "You were carrying this?"

"Always prepared, that's me."

Shaking her head, she marked out the limit of the incursion. She was almost done when she felt another rush of air and flung herself backwards into the safe zone as two ghostly shapes of men walked past just on the other side and disappeared. Catching her breath, she finished marking out the circle and returned to Jack and Rhys. Jack was working on his comms earpiece, poking at the delicate innards with a thin probe.

"What are you trying to do?" she asked.

"Contacting Ianto."

"But he's on the other side of … that!" exclaimed Rhys. "He's in another time."

"And your point is?" Jack raised an eyebrow, replacing the probe in the case Rhys still held. Without waiting for an answer, Jack activated the comms. "Ianto, can you hear me?"

"_Jack?"_ There was no mistaking the mingled stress and relief in Ianto's voice. _"Where are you?"_

"2008. When are you and what's your situation?"

"_Not sure and grim."_

"Come on, Ianto, don't give up on us yet. Think I'm going to leave you there?"

"_No, 'cos not."_ He sighed, not at all sure really, and pulled himself together. _"I'm in a street, cobbles on the ground. Rain. People."_

"What are the people wearing?"

"_Clothes."_

Jack rolled his eyes. "Not a nudist colony then. I'd be jealous if it was."

Ianto chuckled; Jack was still his normal self and that was always reassuring_. "Old fashioned clothes. The women are in long dresses and bonnets, the men in big coats with top hats." _

"Oh I loved those. Had a silk topper, wore it to opening night at the New Theatre back in '06."

"Not the time, Jack," cut in Gwen. "We have to get Ianto back and close this … thing."

"Right. Stay put, Ianto, we'll come up with something."

"_You'd better. I don't want to be here forever."_ He was very afraid that he might be stuck in this time and somehow have to make a life here, on his own.

"Hey, I always have a plan. You ever known me not to have a plan?" He sounded disgusted at the lack of faith. "Gotta concentrate now so no more talking."

With the comms link closed, Gwen looked at Jack expectantly. "So, what's the plan?"

"Search me."

"But you just told Ianto you had one!" protested Rhys still trying to get his head around different times meeting, disappearing into them and yet being able to talk across them.

"No point in upsetting him." Jack turned and surveyed the street, the circle on the ground which marked the limit of their movement and patted down his pockets. "Okay," he said after a minute or two, "not much to work with but I've had less. Gwen, I'll need your comms and mobile." She handed them over without a word. "You two get the cover off this street light." He handed her a chisel and large, heavy screwdriver.

"And you complain about what women carry in their handbags."

"But this is useful," he retorted with a grin.

Gwen went to the nearby street lamp, the only one inside the circle, shadowed by Rhys. They struggled but eventually managed to pry off the cover and reveal the lamp's control panel. Jack gestured them to one side and knelt in front of it, the eviscerated mobile phone in his hand, and started pulling wires from the lamp and attaching them to the phone.

"This is just like MacGyver, remember him, Gwen?" said Rhys looking on in admiration as Jack busied himself.

"Huh!" Gwen was not going to let on that she was impressed too. "You'd better not have lost all my numbers," Gwen complained when she saw the state of her mobile. "Took me ages to load them all."

"Don't worry, took out the SIM card." He stopped what he was doing and dug in a pocket before handing it over. "We're in luck, this controls all the lights on this side of the street."

"That's good how?"

"It'll make a bigger dampening field."

"Oh." Gwen had no idea what he was talking about, had never understood the technical side of Torchwood. "Can't you close this incursion with one of those keys like you gave Tommy?"

"Could do. If you happen to have one on you." He looked up at her enquiringly then went back to work. "Thought not."

"You're the one with the bottomless pockets."

"All out of portable Rift manipulators today." He activated his comms. "Ianto, you still there?"

"_Yeah, I'm here."_ He had retreated to a flight of steps leading down to a basement of a large house and was huddled in a dark corner trying to avoid the passers-by. His clothes marked him out as different and he'd already got a few strange looks. _"How's your plan coming along?" _

"Getting there. Have you got street lighting there?"

"_Uh huh." _

"I need to know how many there are on the same side of the street looking left from where you entered."

"_Hang on."_ Ianto stood up and peered down the street. He had moved a hundred metres or so to his hiding place, a spot etched in his memory. _"Five."_

"Good. Now listen carefully, Ianto. In a few minutes, I need you standing exactly where you were when time changed round you. Face the way you were facing then, towards the SUV. When the streetlights flicker, take one pace backwards. Don't turn round, walk backwards. Got that?"

"_Yeah." _

Jack lowered his voice and turned away so the others couldn't hear him. "Ianto, this is going to work but, just in case, I'm living at 56 Jubilee Terrace in Tiger Bay. You understand?"

"_I understand."_ If the worse happened he would not be alone because Jack was already in this time. He would look after him – once Ianto had persuaded him of the truth of what had happened.

"Good." Jack turned back to Gwen. "Take this," he handed her her adapted comms, "and stand over there." He pointed to the other side of the circle. "When I give the word, activate it. Rhys, you hold this," he passed over the cannibalised mobile still attached to the streetlight, "and press this button when I say. You both have to act together to get time straight again."

"What are you going to do?"

"Get Ianto."

Gwen moved into position and Jack stood just inside the circle marked on the ground a metre or so from the back of the SUV. He could feel the temporal eddies flowing in front of his face. "Ianto, get into position."

"_I'm ready."_ Ianto took a shuddering breath and stood as near as he could to where he had been. He waited, tense and nervous and when, a moment or two later, the lights flickered he stepped backwards and shrieked as hands grabbed his shoulders yanking him almost off his feet.

"It's only me," came Jack's familiar voice in his ear, wrapping warm arms round the Welshman. "You're back in the twenty first century."

Ianto sagged into the familiar hold, relief washing over him. "Thank you, Jack."

"Oh, Ianto, it's good to see you!"

Jack released Ianto into Gwen's hug and went to where Rhys was still holding the mobile. He quickly scanned the area then grinned. "I'll take that, Rhys. Good work."

"Is it back to normal?" Rhys was looking round him suspiciously. Nothing appeared to have changed but Ianto was back.

"Yeah, all thanks to you." Jack pulled the mobile free of the connection to the streetlight and stuffed it into a pocket

"Really? I did it?" He sounded so proud Jack laughed out loud which drew the others to their side.

Five minutes later, having assured herself Ianto was all right, Gwen took Rhys' hand and they walked off towards their car only hesitating slightly as they walked outside the circle marked on the ground. Ianto looked around him, particularly up at the upper storeys of the buildings that lined the street.

"It was the same place. The houses … were these houses. But it looked so very different."

"Come on, let's get back to the Hub." Jack held out his hand and Ianto took it, holding on tightly. He did not intend to let go for a long time.


	51. Haunting Meolody

_I saw John Barrowman playing the flute on last night's The One Show (BBC1) and was inspired to write this story. _

* * *

**Haunting Melody**

It was late, gone ten o'clock in the evening, when Gwen emerged from the lower levels of the Hub. She was researching visits by Arkans following their most recent fly-by. Her theory, pooh-poohed by the others, was that they came at certain times of the year, probably their tourist seasons, but she needed the evidence to back it up. There was a certain amount on the computer files but like Ianto she preferred paper copies where possible. Her search had taken her longer than expected but as Rhys was out at his monthly, and usually all-night, poker session she had nowhere better to be.

The music was low and Gwen did not hear it at first, too busy scanning the files in her hand. It was only when it grew in volume and then returned to its previous level that she looked up. The music was unlike any she had heard before, haunting and … so sad. Perhaps a folk song? A tale of parted lovers? She couldn't tell and yet she wanted to know, felt drawn to it. Only when she was at her desk did she realise that it was coming from Jack's office and, looking that way, saw him playing an instrument. After a momentary hesitation – should she interrupt him? – she padded forward and stood just outside the door, listening.

Jack played rarely and was only doing so now because he had found the flute, long abandoned in his quarters, during a search for his set of Lopplit probes. In finding the probes he had found the flute and, after cleaning it up a bit, he had settled in the office of the empty Hub and started to play. It was several minutes before he became aware of Gwen standing in the doorway and stopped playing.

"Thought I had the place to myself," he said, looking up at her and smiling.

"That was beautiful." She moved into the room and returned his smile. "I didn't know you played," she looked more closely at the instrument, "the flute."

"Learnt a long time ago." He had actually learnt to play a Varron pipe, a flute was the closest he could get to that on Earth. "But you don't want to hear me murdering a tune."

"You didn't murder it, Jack," she protested, sitting down. "That was … haunting. It made me feel sad and yet I want to hear more. What was it?"

"An old tune." He had never told Gwen of his childhood on Boeshane – only Ianto had got that out of him – but she knew enough to guess he had not been born on Earth. "It was my mother's favourite."

"I've never heard it before. Play a bit more. Please?" She opened her wide, expressive eyes and smiled at him, using a ploy that had helped her get her own way since she was barely toddling.

"All right," he agreed, no more immune to those eyes than the other men in Gwen's life, from her father onwards.

He put the flute to his lips, closed his eyes and began playing, immediately lost in the melody. His mother had told him the story that went with it, when he was about five years old, and he could recall sitting on her lap breathing in her unique smell as she rocked him back and forth, the music playing on the communal system. When he was old enough and had learnt to play the pipe sufficiently well, he had practicised and practicised before played it for her as a surprise one evening. Her face, wreathed in smiles, swam before his eyes and he felt a sudden wave of loneliness wash over him that made his fingers falter. Recovering, he carried on playing but it was not as good as before and a few minutes later he stopped.

"Thanks, that was lovely."

"Time you were home. Isn't Rhys waiting for you?"

"No, he's abandoned me for his mates." She got up, putting the chair back in its accustomed place. "But I will get off, busy day tomorrow."

"Yeah, gotta visitor coming to help us with that body we found." He grinned, imagining the reaction of the team when Martha Jones arrived.

"That'll please Owen!" she grinned. Five minutes later she was packed and waved as she walked out of the cog door.

Jack stroked the flute, wondering where the case had ended up; it should be in his quarters somewhere. He knew what had happened to his Varron pipe, broken in the raid when he had lost his father and brother. There had been no music after that, not for a long time. Playing had merely been a reminder of happier times. He'd only started again after meeting The Doctor. Rose had hummed tunes she remembered and he had tried to play them for her on whatever instruments he could find and she would sing along. Good times with lots of laughter, especially when The Doctor had tried dancing with her and got it all wrong. Jack took a deep breath, remembering wouldn't bring Rose back to this dimension; she was lost forever. He'd never see her again. Just as he would never see his family or so many other people from his past.

Suddenly unable to sit still, he grabbed his greatcoat and gear and strode out of the Hub and into the SUV. The drive to Cathays took barely ten minutes and he parked quickly before buzzing for entry to the block of flats. He waited a minute or two then buzzed again.

"_Who is it?"_ came over the intercom, the voice grumpy.

"Me. Can I come in?"

"_If you must." _

The buzzer sounded and the door was released. Jack pushed it open and climbed up to the second floor where the door to the flat was ajar. He went in, dropped his greatcoat over the back of a chair and followed the smell of freshly brewing coffee to the kitchen.

"That for me?" he asked, standing behind Ianto and wrapping his arms round the young man's waist.

"I assumed you'd want some. What's happened?"

"Nothing. Just … felt lonely."

Ianto carried on making the coffee, impeded by the man clinging to him but able to complete the task nevertheless. Even when the beverage was made and handed over, Jack didn't want to be separated from his lover and took his hand and led him to the couch, pulling him down to sit on his knee. The two men drank the coffee in silence, Ianto with one arm around Jack's neck, their heads close together.

"Want to talk about it?" asked Ianto eventually, putting his mug on the side table.

"No. It's gone now." Jack smiled at him as he passed over his mug to be placed beside its mate.

It was true. The wave of loneliness had passed as it usually did when Jack was with Ianto. The memories of other times and other people took their rightful place as history and Jack delighted in the companionship he had in the here and now. He knew it wouldn't last, that it would pass like all the others, but that was the future and he had learnt to let that take care of itself. Others would appear to help him cope, he had to believe that or give up altogether and become a hermit. An image flashed through his mind - hermits united – and he laughed.

"What's so funny?" asked Ianto, pulling back to look at him.

"Just something I remembered. Come on, let's get these clothes off; it's way to warm to be wearing so much."

His hands slipped further under the untucked shirt and lips sought out the nearest patch of bare skin and Jack's loneliness was banished for another night.


	52. Digging the Past

**Digging the Past**

The rain stopped just before midday when the diggers were breaking to go into the barn for their lunch. All of them were wet from the steady morning drizzle and caked in mud but most were sanguine about their state, used to it from other digs in Wales. These scraped off what mud they could, washed their hands and tramped into the barn where the delicious aroma of hot coffee, shepherd's pie and jam roly-poly wafted out at them. Hanging back were two people most definitely not used to the conditions.

"Remind me, how did we get talked into this?" asked Owen.

"I volunteered and you lost the toss." Toshiko was regretting that lost toss, any one of the other Torchwood team members would be a better companion than Owen who had been bitching for the past three days, ever since they'd joined the dig.

"I still say Gwen rigged that."

"If you don't hurry up, lunch'll be cold." She had washed her hands and was looking at him still trying to get mud off his boots and jeans. "It'll get as bad this afternoon, leave it."

"Jack so owes me."

They went into the barn and joined the tail end of the queue for food and drink, chatting to the other diggers. Most of those working on the site were students from Cardiff University's Archaeology Department but there were others, professional and amateur, who had volunteered to help out. They were all friendly and helpful, willing to explain techniques and give tips on how to avoid an aching back and scraped knuckles. With heaped plates of food – they'd been working hard and were hungry – Toshiko and Owen joined some others at a table and ate quickly.

The talk was all about the current dig, the unearthing of more of Cosmeston Medieval Village just south of Penarth, and how it compared to others. The current excavation was trying to make sense of a pair of houses, specifically to understand the various stages of their construction. Toshiko listened to the conversation and chipped in from time to time, steering it round gently to the most startling event of the week before.

"Where were those people that disappeared working?" she asked in an off-hand manner.

"In a trench nearer the woods," replied Marie, sitting next to Toshiko and an inveterate gossip. "They've closed it down now."

"That's no mystery, Marie. It was empty," said Geoff from the head of the table. He was one of the professors directing the dig and rarely spoke except to issue orders. "What's your interest?" he asked Toshiko.

"Nothing really. Friend of ours, Jack, he worked on a dig in Egypt where a woman disappeared." She giggled girlishly, liking the persona she had adopted whilst undercover. "She turned up dead three days later." Beside her, Owen grunted in agreement.

"Well these three won't," said Geoff with finality. "They've gone to another dig, in Yorkshire."

Geoff spoke with such authority that it effectively ended the discussion. People started talking of other things and the lunch break was soon over. Owen excused himself and went off to find somewhere private to call Jack while Toshiko stayed close to Marie and managed to settle down next to her in the soggy trench – the drizzle had started again – to continue their minute excavation of the patch allotted them. Over the next four hours she found out more about the aborted trench and the three people working there.

"Thank Christ that's over for another day," complained Owen at five thirty when, in view of the worsening weather, Jane, the Community Archaeologist, called a halt. "Let's get out of here."

He and Toshiko slogged through the mud to the van Ianto had hired for them – a beat up Citroen Berlingo – and dumped their gear in the back before getting inside out of the rain. Battling with the crummy gear box and hardly able to see through the fogged up windscreen, Owen drove onto the gravel track that led past the reconstructed Village buildings and through the Country Park to the road. Here he turned right and headed for Sully arriving ten minutes later at the anonymous semi-detached house rented for the week as Torchwood's base. It was far removed from the big houses that lined the coast - beloved of those with money who worked in Cardiff but wanted to live outside the city - even though it had the same post code.

"Back door," said Toshiko, exiting the van and walking round. "You know what Ianto said last time."

"Bleeding pedant. He should try working out in this bloody weather, in the mud."

"Are you talking about me?" Ianto was stood at the open back door, surveying them. "Stay on the newspaper when you get inside, I've just washed the kitchen floor." He ushered them in and made sure they obeyed his instructions, hovering around them like a mother hen as they removed jackets and boots. "Jeans too," he told them.

"Why don't I just strip here and wash in the sink!?" excalimed Owen.

"You'd make too much mess. Here's a towel if you want to protect your modesty but I'm not having the mud on those jeans traipsed through the house."

With a lot of grumbling Owen complied; Toshiko had already removed her jeans and was swathed in a large fluffy towel and on her way upstairs with a mug of coffee in her hand. By being first, she would get the bath while Owen would have to make do with the shower in the en-suite. She shut and locked the door, turned on the taps and dropped her remaining clothes on the floor looking forward to a good, long soak to ease aching muscles. An hour later, she returned downstairs feeling human once more having washed and dried her hair as well as the rest of her.

"That coffee was wonderful," she told Ianto, putting the mug on the side. "Need a hand with anything?" She looked round the kitchen but all seemed under control and there were some delicious smells coming from the oven.

"No, thanks. Go and relax. Jack and Gwen will be here in half an hour. Meal'll be ready by then."

In the living room she found Owen slumped in front of the television playing one of his many computer racing games. She picked up her laptop from the side and curled up in a big, overstuffed chair to find out what had been happening while they were at the dig. There had been two Rift openings and some Weevil sightings – the others had been busy.

"Honey, I'm home!" rang out as Jack came through the front door with Gwen behind him. He grinned with delight when Ianto appeared at the kitchen door, tea towel in hand, scowling.

"I told you, back door." The Welshman hurried forward and stopped Jack hanging his wet greatcoat over the banisters. "You're dripping water everywhere!"

"It's rented, Ianto, it's not yours," said Jack slowly, as if speaking to the mentally challenged. He slipped off his boots and padded into the living room.

"All the more reason to keep it clean!"

"Here you go, Ianto," smiled Gwen, handing him her short jacket. "We're not that wet, not really." She sat on the floor and removed her boots. "Can I help with anything? Smells good."

"You're all right. Be another ten minutes." He bustled off into the kitchen with their wet coats, hanging them in the utility room. She followed him.

"Must be something I can do to help. How about laying the table?"

He smiled at her, relaxing for a moment. Keeping this house and the Hub clean and running efficiently as well as helping round up Weevils had kept him busy all week. "Thank you. Stuff's all out ready." He gestured to the cutlery, glasses and place mats on one of the counter tops.

Fifteen minutes later the team were gathered round the dining table in the kitchen alcove. Beers and wine had been poured and dishes of steaming vegetables and potatoes surrounded the roast chicken which Jack was carving expertly. They argued over the legs which eventually went to Owen and Gwen after Jack professed himself a 'breast man' with a knowing wink at Toshiko. With the meat on their plates, each helped themselves to the rest of the food and the rich gravy.

"This is fabulous, Ianto," enthused Gwen, mouth full.

"Umm," agreed Toshiko, unable to talk at that moment.

"He's a little treasure," added Jack, raising his glass in salute. "But to business. What have you found out?"

Toshiko swallowed quickly. "The three diggers were working on a trench thirty metres from where we are. It's partly in the woods, set well away from the village proper. The sort of place you'd chose if you wanted to be out of the public eye."

"Or outcast," put in Gwen. "I've been reading up on the 1300s. Lots of people were forced to live apart because they were thought to be witches or were deformed. They were tolerated but no more."

"Good point," said Jack, cutting up a roast potato. "Any more detail on what actually happened?"

"I managed to work next to Marie this afternoon. She's been at the dig from the start and likes to chat. It was mid-morning last Friday when the commotion – her word – started. Peter Roberts, Eleri Vaughan and Duncan Mason – the three at the trench - were excited and Marie thought something good had been found. Jane Stewart, the leader, was over there and some of the other organisers, but no one else was allowed to get close and nothing was said officially. That evening Peter, Eleri and Duncan were still closeted in the finds hut – they'd been there all afternoon - when everyone else left and didn't show up for work the next day. No one has heard from them since, not that they had any particular friends on site."

"If they were made ill by whatever was found, they were the only ones. Everyone else is okay," put in Owen, reaching across to snag the potatoes and help himself to a couple more. "Any joy in tracing them?"

"Three people answering their descriptions were admitted to Providence Park on Saturday," answered Ianto. He had spent hours digging through records of various institutions, patiently by-passing myriad security measures, before finally coming across the three. "They were admitted under the Mental Health Act's emergency powers and it looks like they're in the secure wing. The medical records are in the case file."

"I'll take a look later. Any more chicken?" He looked up hopefully.

"Here." Ianto served him some more of the succulent meat, pleased he'd taken the trouble to cook. Takeaways were fine, in their place, but would never replace a home-cooked meal. "Anyone else?" They all took some more and added vegetables to their plates.

"What about the finds?" asked Jack. "Manage to get closer to those yet?"

"Huh!" grunted Owen, chewing on his mouthful before answering. "Spent all afternoon up to me elbows in cold water cleaning silly bits of pots with a toothbrush! Wouldn't let me near the good stuff!"

Jack grinned. "Is the good stuff still on site? We have to locate whatever they found." A Thermal Bioscan, conducted secretly on the night after the find, had confirmed the Torchwood monitors' findings of alien energy in the area. Rather than go in heavy-handed when they had so little information, Jack had decided on an undercover operation to get the lay of the land and suss out what had happened.

"Some is," confirmed Toshiko, "but my PDA didn't pick up anything alien." She had left it in the van during the day running various scans. "Though I need to get it closer to the finds hut to be sure."

"We ran by the University again," added Gwen, neatly placing her knife and fork on her empty plate. "Still no energy signatures there." They had assumed that whatever had been found would be taken to the security of the Archaeology Department but it seemed not which is why they were concentrating on the dig itself. "I think we need to get into the site again."

"We'll go this evening," announced Jack, spearing the last roast potato. "The Rift should be quiet."

Unfortunately he was wrong in this respect. There was an opening in Ely just half an hour after they had finished the meal and Jack, Ianto and Gwen went off to deal with it. Owen was deep in a study of the medical records and Toshiko was analysing the scans she and the others had accumulated. They were still at it when Jack and Ianto returned at nearly eleven, tired and dirty.

"We dropped Gwen at home," explained Ianto. "She got covered in this … stuff." He indicated the brownish residue on his suit trousers.

"Mucus," clarified Jack cheerfully, whose clothes were also stained. "It sneezed on us. Must have got a whiff of Gwen's perfume!"

"Still want to go to the dig?" asked Owen from his place sprawled on a small sofa with a laptop resting on his middle.

"Yeah, we won't get a better opportunity." Jack sat on a chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "Any chance of a coffee, Ianto?"

The Welshman made the drinks before disappearing to the front bedroom where he had stashed a change of clothes. When he returned, ten minutes later, his colleagues were in the same positions, serious expressions on their faces. Owen had analysed the medical records and confirmed the three in Park Providence were the missing diggers. They were isolated and receiving treatment for catatonic schizophrenia.

"It don't look good, never is really. Suppose the University thought it was better to put 'em somewhere out of the way," he concluded.

"And none of them have families," added Toshiko sadly, "so there's no one to question their disappearance."

"Better than killing them, I suppose," added Jack, too cheerfully for the others who frowned at him. "The scans are still iffy. Definitely time for a look-see."

Half an hour later, the four of them were creeping through the undergrowth surrounding the dig. The rain had stopped but everywhere was still saturated so they trod carefully. A night watchman was supposed to be guarding the site but they had seen him in the warmth of the main building watching late night TV and were only being cautious in case anyone else might be about. The place was eerie in the weak moonlight, the temporary huts and equipment casting strange shadows across the muddy ground. Taking care to avoid the open trenches Owen led Jack to the wood, the others having gone to the finds hut.

"This is it," Owen whispered, standing by the flimsy barriers that cordoned off the 'abandoned' trench. "Grab that end." With Jack's help, the barrier was removed and they got closer, pulling back the tarpaulin cover.

The two men shone their torches into the trench, a rectangle about one metre wide by two long. The ground had been scrapped away for about a metre down with, at one end, a deeper hole. Jack stepped into the trench and moved to the hole using his vortex manipulator to scan the area while Owen held both torches.

Satisfied, Jack looked up at the doctor. "This is the place, definite residual energy readings."

"Any clue what?" He had reached a hand to help Jack out of the trench.

"Nope." Jack turned suddenly as a shadow moved towards them, relaxing when he recognised the approaching figure. "Tosh, what you got?"

"Bio-telliac energy readings, at the finds hut. I left Ianto on guard. Follow me." She led them through the trenches and up to the door of the largest hut on site, a hired Portakabin. This was used to store finds until they had been cleaned and classified when they were transferred to the University.

Ianto looked up from his place at the end of the Portakabin nearest the main building. "No sign of movement," he reported.

"Then let's take a look in here." Jack had the lockbreaker against the large combination padlock and after a moment, it sprang open. "Good." He pocketed the padlock and opened the door. "Any idea how things are kept in here?"

"The better stuff's over here." Owen led the way to the right, past racks with various items in boxes and plastic containers with labels and numbers on them. "Somewhere in this rack probably." He gestured to one with had almost intact pots, metal utensils, a collapsed leather shoe and small pieces of jewellery.

Toshiko scanned the shelving. "No, nothing." Moving to the left she continued to scan, Jack doing the same in the opposite direction. "Here." She was standing in front of a locked metal cupboard.

Jack ran the lockbreaker over it and opened the door carefully. Inside were three shelves on which were four plastic containers. He scanned them. "Top shelf, Tosh," he told her.

She gently lifted the large plastic container down so they could all look inside. Jack lifted the lid and revealed a beautiful torque of a silvery coloured metal with a twisted rope design. "Oh that's lovely," she said.

Jack and the others crowded round to admire it. "That, kids, is a Mylestic Saberite. No, Ianto, don't touch. It's a sex toy for the Mylestii who believe in mental stimulation to enhance physical pleasure. It would be literally mind-blowing for humans." His voice lost its amused tone and took on a sad note. "Must be what happened to those diggers."

"What's it doing here?" Toshiko still thought it was beautiful despite its purpose.

"The Mylestii got about a bit. Must have visited Earth back in the 1300s and either been stranded or left this behind. They'd have kept it undercover, probably buried it when they weren't using it." Jack replaced the lid firmly and took the box from Toshiko. "We'll take this back to the Hub, out of harm's way."

"Never heard of these Mylestii before. What're they like?" asked Owen as they moved through the hut.

"Humanoid. But with crooked backs and six fingers, dead give away." He passed the padlock to Ianto to secure the door after them as they left the hut. "Like Gwen said, they'd have been thought deformed."

"Anything we can do for the diggers?"

"No. The sensory overload would have been too great. But, on the bright side, it was the best sex they'll have ever experienced!" Jack grinned and the moonlight was reflected on his teeth.

"Jack!" they all hissed in disgust.

Jack was still chuckling quietly as the four of them made their way back to the SUV, past the main building where the guard was now asleep. In the vehicle, Jack put the Saberite in a secure container before climbing into the driver's seat.

"What are they going to think when they find the thing's missing?" asked Ianto sitting beside Jack.

"No idea. But they knew it was dangerous, that's why they kept it apart from the other finds and shut down the trench. They'll not make a fuss about it." He started the engine. "Of course," he added with a grin, "they may blame the two diggers who don't turn up for work tomorrow."

"I don't bleeding care what they think!" exclaimed Owen. "Just as long as I don't ever have to go back there again."

They were laughing as the SUV headed off into the darkness for one last night at the house in Sully.


	53. Returning the Favour

**Returning the Favour**

In the few months Gwen had been working for Torchwood, she had come to know her boss in many moods. Flirtatious was the most common, though perhaps that should be suggestive as Jack was never coy about his feelings. Angry, Gwen had seen that on a few memorable occasions and it had frightened the life out of her. So much so that she had vowed never to do anything to make him that angry with her; she shuddered as she remembered him laying into Ianto after they'd found the Cyberwoman. Caring was rarer and for that reason the one she appreciated the most; he had been there for her when she'd been shot and when Suzie had taken her over. The very rarest of Jack's moods was loving, plain unadulterated loving, which she seen only once when he had been with Estelle Cole.

At the moment his mood was another of the more common ones – irritating. He had been grinning and giggling to himself for the past ten minutes, ever since he had received a mysterious phone call. Gwen had watched him from her desk, sucking on the end of her pen, and wondered what had set him off. It couldn't have been any of the rest of the team, they were all in the Hub performing their normal duties with as little enthusiasm as she was feeling. The Rift had been quiet for over twenty-four hours, the Weevils were staying home and the team was bored out of their minds, with the possible exception of Toshiko who always seemed to have something to occupy her. Gwen watched as Jack stood up and threaded the holster for his old-fashioned gun through his belt and donned his greatcoat.

Grabbing a folder from her desk, Gwen stood and walked to the door of the office, timing it just right to meet Jack on his way out. "Oh, going somewhere?" she asked apparently artlessly.

"Yup." He was still grinning and suddenly let out a chuckle. "Urgent?" He quirked an eyebrow and glanced at the folder.

"No, it can wait. Need company? I'm not busy."

He was shaking his head, already walking to the cog door. "Sorry, not this time." With a wave and another chuckle – he wondered if anyone would tell her she had ink round her mouth - he ran down the steps and was gone.

Gwen stood looking after him and wondered where he was going and what was amusing him so much. It was tempting to follow him but he was too canny for that, he would know and then she'd be in trouble. With a sigh, she strolled back to her desk her mood brightening when she saw Ianto at the coffee machine; a shot of caffeine was just what she needed.

Outside Jack strode along, hands in his coat pockets and a smile on his face. He disliked boring days as much as his team and this diversion had been very welcome. He chuckled again when he recalled the phone call - this was going to be such fun. Walking up Lloyd George Avenue, he considered a few scenarios but none of them seemed quite in keeping with the moment. Ten minutes later, as he turned into Adam Street and saw her sitting in the car, he had still not decided how to play the meeting.

The passenger door opened and in one quick, neat movement Jack climbed into the car closing the door after him. He beamed at the driver. "You called. Sounded desperate for a bit of the Harkness charm."

"Christ you don't get any better!" Kathy Swanson rolled her eyes and eyed him up and down. "Move your hand."

"Oh come on, Detective, admit it. That's why you wanted me here." His hand squeezed her thigh and started moving higher.

"Move it or lose it!"

"Okay." He held up both hands, still grinning. "So why are we cosying up in your car?" Jack looked out of the windscreen at a normal city street; people hurrying by and vehicles moving at a snail's pace at the traffic lights' behest. "Could have chosen somewhere with a better view."

Kathy gripped the steering wheel in both hands then relaxed. She was wondering, yet again, if this was a good idea but she had nowhere else to turn. Jack was her last hope. "Colin Barrett. Black jacket, red baseball cap sitting at the middle window table in the café on the corner. Warehouseman at the big new Asda."

He followed her stare and saw the man she meant. There was nothing special about him. Around forty maybe, but dressed younger, reading a newspaper and occasionally sipping from an over-large cup. "What about him?"

"He raped a six-year old girl."

Jack turned to look at her, understanding her rigid body language and unsmiling face for the first time. "So arrest him."

"No evidence. Bloody judge won't give us a search warrant." She thumped the steering wheel with a fist. "He took her headband, keeping it as a trophy, I just need to find it."

"What makes you think he did it?"

"She identified him in a line-up. He's been seen hanging around her school and he lives in the same neighbourhood. Other mothers say he looks at their daughters inappropriately." Kathy turned her head to meet Jack's gaze. "He did it and he's probably done it before."

All the amusement Jack had felt about being called by Kathy had dissipated and he watched her seriously. "But if she identified him -"

"Bloody judge didn't believe her! Said Bernice wasn't a credible witness. The kid never smiles any more, can barely leave her room and is frightened of every man who comes near yet the bloody judge lets him," she jutted her chin at the café, "walk the streets."

"Maybe he didn't do it."

"He did it!" She thumped the steering wheel again.

"Why are you taking this so personally? This must have happened to you before." She looked away towards the other side of the street. "Kathy?"

"Bernice is my goddaughter." She turned back to glare at him. "And no, before you say it, I'm not letting my personal feelings get in the way. Solid police work identified him but the lawyers and the judge are so damned skewed in favour of the criminal they don't think of the victim."

Jack was silent for a while, watching the man and thinking before turned back to Kathy. "This isn't your case, can't be if you know the victim. Maybe there's something -"

"No! You're right, I'm not on the case but Jim Keller has kept me in the loop. I've seen the evidence. It was Barrett."

"Why are you telling me this? What do you want me to do?"

She took a deep breath then met his gaze. "I want you to … find a way to get the evidence so we can put him away. Torchwood has … ways of doing things. Can do stuff we can't. Please, Jack." Kathy reached to the back seat and picked up a bulky file with a photograph pinned to the front and handed it to him. "If not for me, do it for her. I want that Bernice back again."

The photograph showed Kathy hugging a young girl with pigtails, both of them rolling on the grass. They were grinning and pulling faces for the camera and obviously having fun. Jack looked at it then flicked through the file. There were witness statements, Barrett's rap sheet and details of the evidence collected; the case had been well documented, pursued with additional dedication as the victim was related to one of their own. Jack found it compelling and glanced back at Kathy.

"I still don't see what you want me to do," he began, holding up a hand when she started to interrupt. "No, hear me out. I could get into his place, sure, but anything I find would be inadmissible in court. How would that help?"

She let an exasperated sigh and closed her eyes in frustration. "I don't know," she admitted finally. "I just … I can't think of any other way." She wiped at her eyes.

"Then it's a good job I can." Jack grinned at her. "Stay here." With that he was out of the car and striding up the street to the café.

Kathy sat and watched him buy a bottle of water at the counter and then go and sit at Colin Barrett's table. She was too far away to see their faces but after years of police work she could read their body language. Barrett was irritated when Jack sat down – there were plenty of empty tables – and grew more annoyed when Jack leant forward and started talking. After about five minutes Barrett's demeanour changed, becoming defensive even … frightened. She wondered if she was imagining the last one until she caught a clear view of his face and saw the fear there. Then, ten minutes after Jack had entered the café they were coming out, Jack shepherding Barrett before him and keeping a hand on his arm. Kathy watched, not understanding what was going on, as they walked to her car and Jack opened the back door, pushing Barrett in before joining him on the back seat.

"Detective Swanson, Mr Barrett here would like to make a full confession to the rape of Bernice Mary Adewayo." He smiled at her. "Police headquarters, soon as you like."

"Right." She shook herself and started the engine, glancing at Barrett in the rearview mirror. He was pale, shooting frightened glances at Jack sitting beside him. She twisted to face the two men. "Mr Barrett," the courtesy stuck in her throat but she got it out, "I'm Detective Swanson. Is this true?" She didn't want to turn up at Cathays Park and find Jack had been having her on.

"Yes, yes. I raped that kid. I followed her from school and took her to a lock-up by the river. She was asking for it, leading me on, and I gave her what she wanted. Here, if you don't believe me!" He thrust a hand in a pocket only to cry out when Jack clamped a hand around his wrist.

"Careful now," warned Jack, his voice calm and measured, a marked contrast to Barrett's eager protestations.

His arm released, Barrett slowly withdrew an envelope which Jack took from him, looked inside and then passed to Kathy. Opening the envelope, keeping careful rein on her temper, Kathy saw the familiar white and blue headband which had a few strands of curly dark hair still attached to it from where if had been snatched from its owner's head. It was Bernice's, she was sure of it, and it should be possible to get a DNA match from the hair.

"Look, I did it. I'll cop to it. Can't we just go!?" Barrett's voice had a touch of hysteria in it. "Please!"

"And the others, Colin, don't forget them," said Jack calmly.

"Yes, all right! Them too! Just get me somewhere safe, please Detective!" Barrett was clinging to the back of Kathy's seat and the smell of his sweat was permeating the car. "Lock me up, please!"

Kathy met Jack's gaze and saw him smile grimly and nod his head. Silently she passed him her handcuffs and waited until he had put them on Barrett before turning round and putting the car in gear. Colin Barrett was almost in tears when she entered the car park at the side of the Cardiff Police Headquarters and so eager to turn himself in he fell out of the car and had to be helped back to his feet. Jack followed Kathy into the building and stood back as she got the custody sergeant to put Barrett in a holding cell while she contacted her colleague, Jim Keller, whose case this was to start the procedures for arresting him for rape. When she turned to thank Jack, he was gone.

"Jack! Jack!" Kathy was running after the unmistakable figure as he walked away from the building. "Wait up!" Jack halted and turned to face her as she regained her breath. "How did you do it?" she asked.

"Like you said, Torchwood has its ways. And I owed you a favour."

"I don't know how to thank you."

"Put a smile on Bernice's face again." He hugged her briefly then, with a smile and wave, walked off.

The Hub was still quiet when Jack entered. Gwen, passing through the lower level, saw him first and realised his mood had changed yet again; he was sombre, keeping his head down as he walked through the cog door.

"Everything all right?" she asked as she drew nearer.

"Yeah." He took a deep breath and looked round, spotting the rest of the team at their desks. "Go home, kids. Go enjoy yourselves," he said, raising his voice so they could hear him.

"If you want to talk," offered Gwen, wondering what had happened to him. She was rewarded with a broad grin.

"Nah, get off to that boyfriend of yours." He slapped her backside in encouragement and laughed when she threw him a dirty look over her shoulder. "But wipe the ink off your face first!"


	54. Roundstone Woods

_Something a bit different, hope you enjoy ..._

* * *

**Roundstone Woods**

The branches of the trees moved in the wind, brushing against one another and leaves rustled eerily. Occasionally a stronger gust made the tree trunks creak and groan. As a counterpoint, small mammals could be heard foraging in the undergrowth; this was home to badgers, voles and foxes. Squirrels ran up and down the trees, flittering in and out of the fading daylight and casting strange shadows.

The natural sounds suddenly ceased as a large four legged alien creature, alien to the wood and to Earth, crashed through bushes and younger trees running to escape its tormentor. The Polokol had separated from its colleagues and was leading its pursuer deep into the woodland, far enough away from the other Terrans to provide opportunity to turn and attack. It twisted and turned through the trees until reaching a small glade where it swerved violently behind a massive oak and stopped abruptly, disappearing into the darkness.

Toshiko Sato realised something had changed when it was too late. She had been following the noise of the Polokol for ten minutes and she had run several metres before she missed the sound. Slowing, she started to search the area but before she had completely halted the Polokol leapt from its hiding place and was upon her. The alien was as tall as her and twice as heavy and overpowered her easily, knocking her down with its charge and then landing blows to her head and body with its powerful paws. She didn't get a chance to cry out before she was rendered unconscious.

In another part of the wood, Jack Harkness bent over, hands on his knees, breathing fast but grinning. Chasing the Polokol had been hard work but fun. It lay at his feet, stunned, its shaggy coat mussed up with earth and stray leaves. Jack injected the universal sedative and noted the location before haring off to his right where sounds of a struggle could be heard. He came out of the bushes just in time to see Owen Harper land a tremendous roundhouse punch to the jaw of the Polokol about to attack Gwen Cooper. It was a hell of a sight and Jack grinned in delight.

"Where'd you learn that, Owen? Worthy of Rocky, that one!"

Owen grinned, breathing hard and just as exhilarated by the chase as his boss. "Been practicing. Felled mine back there." He gestured over his shoulder with a thumb then winced, holding his right hand. Checking, he found the hand wasn't broken, it just hurt like hell.

"Bloody things!" complained Gwen, propping herself up on her elbows but making no attempt to stand up. "How the hell are we going to get them back to the Hub?"

"Jack'll come up with something," said Owen with confidence. He knelt down and, awkwardly as he was using his left hand, injected the sedative into the prone alien. "That's the boss's job."

"You're right. I'm going get you to carry them back, Owen, all on your tod." Jack grinned some more and opened his comms. "Tosh, how's it going?" Silence. "Tosh?"

"I don't hear anything." Gwen looked concerned as she stood up and brushed leaves and other debris off her clothes. "Which way did she go?"

"She was over there." Owen gestured to the left, expression serious.

Jack used his vortex manipulator to scan the area. "Movement six hundred metres south," he reported. "Gwen, you're with me. Owen, start getting these three back to the SUV." He gave Owen the location of the Polokol he – Jack – had downed and then ran off with Gwen at his side, both soon lost to sight.

"Typical," sighed Owen and bent to his task.

The light was fading fast as Jack and Gwen raced through the undergrowth, dodging round trees and avoiding – as best they could – the holly and brambles that clutched at their clothes. This Polokol had a good turn of speed and its pursuers took twenty minutes to catch up and another ten to subdue it. With it rendered harmless, Jack scanned the area again. There was no sign of Toshiko and the comms was still unanswered.

"Where is she? Do you think she's all right?" Gwen peered into the darkness around them, barely able to see and wishing she'd brought her torch. "God, this place is creepy." The leaves continued to rustle but now the sound was ominous, threatening where in daylight it had been hardly noticeable.

"I'm going to track the Polokol." Jack pointed to the obvious trail where the large creature and they had entered this small clearing. "You stay here and get Owen to come get laughing boy here." He gestured to the prone alien. "Keep in touch."

With that he was gone, swallowed up by the trees and bushes leaving Gwen to stand alone – if one disregarded the Polokol, as she did – in the dark. It was ridiculous, she knew, to be afraid of the small sounds around her but she was nonetheless. Opening the comms, she raised Owen and started talking to him, anything to keep her fears at bay.

Jack moved swiftly through the trees, peering at the back-illuminated display of his vortex manipulator. It would be an hour or more before the moon rose and, if he remembered correctly, it was only a quarter full anyway. He echoed Gwen's wish that he had a torch. Without it was having to tread carefully to avoid prominent tree roots and clinging brambles which slowed him down. The trail was clear up to the point he and Gwen and started chasing the Polokol, beyond that it was less so; obviously the creature had not been in a rush. So that meant Toshiko had not been behind it, it had shaken her off somewhere further back in the woods. Jack continued on. Over the comms he could hear the others' chatter as they kept themselves company. Owen had put two Polokol in the SUV and was on his way to Gwen, with torches, to get the one she and Jack and felled before picking up the last one. At least all four were accounted for and neutralised. Occasionally Ianto Jones's voice was added to the background noise as he updated them on the state of the Rift from back at the Hub.

While he heard the comms traffic and the noises of the wood, Jack was concentrating too hard on his task to take much notice of it. He was, according to the scanner, nearing Toshiko and he walked a little faster. Emerging from scrub he entered a glade, an empty glade dominated by a huge oak. He continued on but circled back when the scanner told him he'd gone too far. Bending down he sifted through the leaf debris and found a comms earpiece, Toshiko's earpiece. Standing, he realised there could have been a struggle here but it was hard to tell in the dark.

"Toshiko!" he shouted. "Tosh!" No reply, just the normal nighttime noises. "Toshiko!" Recognising it was going to need all of them to find her, Jack opened his comms. "Listen up. I've found Tosh's comms but there's no sign of her. Looks like there might have been a struggle. Load up all the Polokol and make sure they're secure then come and find me. Bring some more torches and we'll start searching." The others immediately acknowledged. Until they arrived, Jack confined himself to searching the immediate area as best he could.

_Several hundred metres away, Toshiko was stumbling through the trees. She was going slowly, unable to see much in the darkness out of her one working eye. The other was closed, swollen and blood-encrusted as was her nose. Her top lip was split and swollen too and her body ached from the beating she had taken but that did not deter her pushing herself on. She had to find the Polokol and neutralise it, that was her job, that was what Jack expected of her. She couldn't let him down. She wanted to rest, to sit down and sleep but she didn't allow herself to give in to the temptation. In her confusion she did not realise she was walking further away from the rest of the Torchwood team. There was one imperative that overrode all other concerns, she must find the Polokol. She did not notice when her bag fell to the ground nor see the brief flicker of light on a branch above her head_

The torchlight coming through the trees was eerie and Jack stood still until he was sure it was the rest of the team coming to help with the search. During the time he had been alone, he'd been plagued by memories of Estelle Cole and the Fairies she had found in this very wood. It took a lot to frighten Jack but Fairies were up there alongside the Daleks and Cybermen in his worst nightmares. Owen appeared first and, a pace or two behind, came Gwen and Ianto. The Welshman had insisted on coming to help, driving out in time to meet up with his colleagues at the SUV. He had brought with him two powerful lanterns and additional torches.

"Stay back," called Jack, holding out a hand in warning. "Ianto, hold that lantern up." Crouching down, Jack surveyed the ground and his first suspicions were confirmed, there had been a scuffle here.

"Looks like the Polokol jumped out on her," said Gwen, also studying the glade. "See, some of its pelt is caught on this tree trunk. Must have hidden behind it."

"She wouldn't have stood a chance," murmured Ianto. "It must have been as big as her."

He didn't criticise anyone for sending her off alone but Jack felt the sting of his words anyway. "There's blood here." Jack pushed thoughts of his culpability to the back of his mind, it wouldn't help Toshiko. Time for that when they'd found her.

Owen crouched down and shone a light over the blood traces. "Not much," he pronounced to everyone's relief. "No more than you'd get from a nosebleed." He angled the torch around the perimeter of the glade. "But where'd she go?"

Gwen had her PDA in her hand, fiddling with the settings. "I can't get anything with this," she said in disgust. "There's some kind of … static."

"It's the wood," put in Ianto, looking round him. "It's always been mysterious, powerful, keeping its secrets."

"If you believe that, you'll believe anything." Jack was back on his feet, accepting the torch Owen held out to him. "An Arcateenian ship crashed here back in the thirties. We couldn't get it out so buried it but the power has been gradually seeping out. That's what's causing the static." Ianto did not look convinced, far from it, but he didn't comment.

"So, how we going to do this?" Owen said impatiently.

"We search in pairs. You and Gwen take that side, stay in sight of one another, and Ianto and I'll go this way. Use the comms to keep in touch. Gwen, make a note of this location so we can meet back here." The four of them split up.

_Toshiko had walked further away from her rescuers. She was now over a mile distant in a part of the wood where the trees were spaced further apart. The going was easier and she stumbled on, grateful for the weak moonlight coming in shafts through the highest tree branches. Her head ached abominably and her ribs and left ankle hurt, the pain a constant burning, but she plodded forward. One foot in front of the other, that was all she could concentrate on, one step after another and she would be closer to her goal. Right, left, right, left. Her feet kept propelling her forward until she put her left foot in a hidden depression and the already weakened ankle failed her. She went down hard, unable to break her fall and lay on the ground, winded. Her eyes closed involuntarily and she welcomed the respite. A few minutes' rest, that would help, she decided. Just a few minutes to ease her aching head. Above her prone body, high in the branches of the trees, three flickering lights could be seen - if there had been anyone to see. _

The lantern cast a good light but holding it at shoulder height was tiring. Gwen stopped and moved the lantern to her other hand, wondering why the makers hadn't provided a shoulder strap. She flexed her cramped shoulders and swung the lantern in a circle, probing the dark and hidden places with the illumination. A few metres to her left, Gwen heard Owen curse as he found yet another tree root, the fifth or sixth so far.

"Christ, I hate nature," he grumbled over the comms. "Why aren't you moving, Gwen?" He had stopped himself, running the powerful torch around the undergrowth.

"Just checking something."

Gwen did not want to admit that the lantern was heavy. She had insisting on taking it – Ianto had the other – as she wanted the additional light but now thought she should have stuck with a torch. She had two of those as well, one in her hand and the other stuck in her back pocket. With a bit of pushing, she managed to get her forearm through the lantern's handle and let it hang at just below waist height. It worked well, showing up the lower vegetation where Toshiko might have fallen or crawled and was less tiring on the arm. For now, thought Gwen, accepting she'd have to move it again later. With the torch sweeping an arc at a higher level, she starting walking forward again. She found the bag just a few minutes later.

"Jack, we've got Tosh's bag." Gwen's voice was excited and Jack smiled. Some good news at last. "I'm sending the co-ordinates to Ianto."

"We're on our way," said Jack, after Ianto had checked his PDA and nodded that he had the co-ordinates. "You carry on, she might be close."

Ianto led the way, jogging through the undergrowth which was well defined in the light of the lantern. He was following a faint path, used by larger animals and humans and the going was good. Even so, it took the two men twenty minutes to reach the location Gwen had given them. Around them the wood was silent and dark.

Jack opened the comms. "Where are you?"

"Here." Owen loomed out of the darkness, his torch aimed down at the ground and invisible to anyone else. "We heard you coming. Like a couple of baby elephants, you are." He shook his head in disgust. "The bag was there." He shone the torch at a patch of bracken at the base of a tree. "Only visible because it's cream."

"Any sign of Tosh?" Ianto had raised the lantern and was looking around the edges of the area. He was worried for his friend; the night was turning chilly and if she was injured hypothermia was a real possibility.

"Not so far. Gwen's up this way." Owen led the way and five minutes later they joined Gwen who was standing staring at a large beech tree, Toshiko's bag at her feet. "You all right?" he asked, going up to her.

"What? Oh, yeah. I suppose." She looked round at the others. "I thought I saw something."

"Tosh?" asked Ianto hopefully.

"No, no sign of her." Gwen turned and looked again at the big beech tree, shining her torch at a point four metres up where a large branch met the trunk.

"What did you see?" asked Jack, coming to stand beside her and following her gaze.

"A light. I thought I saw a light, but … I was mistaken." She smiled ruefully and lowered the torch.

Jack looked thoughtful, searching the trees around them. "Turn off your torches and those lanterns," he ordered. They hesitated. "Now!"

Reluctantly they did as he said and the little group was plunged into complete darkness, the pale moonlight not reaching down to them. Gwen shuffled closer to Jack until their upper arms touched. Gradually their eyes adjusted to the reduced light and, on the branch Gwen had been looking at before, a small flicker of light appeared and disappeared in an instant.

"Did you see that?" demanded Owen, taking a pace towards the tree before halting. "Is it on fire?"

"Shush," cautioned Jack. "Just stand still and be quiet."

Over the next few minutes, Ianto was successively alarmed, confused and entranced. Around them, small flickering lights appeared and disappeared on various branches of the trees all around them; he had turned round to check behind them. The lights were various colours, from pure white to blue, green, yellow and purple. None stayed visible for more than a few seconds at a time or was seen in the same place twice. They appeared to be moving from branch to branch, winking in and out of existence.

"What are they?" whispered Gwen only just loud enough to be heard by her colleagues all gathered close together.

"Could be electrical discharge, like St Elmo's Fire," ventured Owen, his scientific mind attempting to rationalise the display. "But we should be searching for Tosh not watching a light display."

"Hold on." Jack held out a hand to stop him moving or turning on his torch. "This is no electrical discharge." He took two slow paces forward towards the beech tree where most of the lights had gathered, his arms held out from his side palms uppermost. "Sprits of the wood," he said more loudly but keeping his tone level and calm, "we seek a friend who is lost. Will you help us?"

"What is he talking about?" muttered Owen. "He's lost his bleeding mind." He was quickly shushed by Gwen and Ianto.

Jack remained standing with his arms out in supplication, watching the lights continue to move around the tree. One in particular caught his attention. It was brighter than the rest, a deep royal blue and appeared to remain longer in one place. As he watched, it winked out, reappearing on the lowest branch then, a few seconds later, hovered a metre in front of Jack at eye-level. None of the lights had done this before and Jack heard an intake of breath behind him. Ianto, he realised, still amazed by the alien lifeforms he met. The blue light winked out then reappeared on Jack's outstretched right hand.

"Oh my God," came from Gwen, convinced this meant trouble. "Jack?"

"It's all right," he soothed. "They're going to help us find Tosh. Follow me but only use torches, one in front and one behind, aimed down at the ground. Don't want to lose sight of this one."

Jack felt the blue light urge him to the right before it winked out and he started walking in that direction. He heard the click of torches coming on but only the faintest wash of light reached as far as him and that at ground level. When he had taken just three paces, the blue light winked back on in front of him and he continued walking. Owen followed Jack, leading Gwen with Ianto bringing up the rear. Around the humans, the lights kept pace, continuing their ever-changing existence. Owen was ready for anything, firmly convinced they were being led into a trap by some mysterious alien. In the concealing darkness, he had eased his Glock from his pocket and it was a reassuring weight in his hand.

The strange procession continued in this way for several hundred metres through more open woodland where moonlight filtered through to help light their way. The lights were harder to see now and at one point Jack lost sight of his blue guide until it popped into existence immediately in front of his face, startling him. Rounding a large clump of ivy-covered bracken, Jack saw hundreds of the flickering lights hovering over a still form. He hastened forward.

"Tosh!" The lights swooped up before winking out and reappearing on tree branches and surrounding bushes, lighting up the area even before Owen and Ianto's torches reached her. Jack reached down and felt Toshiko's neck, relieved when he felt a strong pulse beating there. "Owen, okay to move her?"

"Let me take a look." Owen pushed Jack aside and knelt by Toshiko's head. He had thrust his Glock away and given his torch to Gwen and now had a small medical scanner in his hand. He ran this over the prone body before nodding. "She looks okay. Help me roll her over." Carefully, he and Jack rolled Toshiko onto her back, her head resting in Jack's lap. "Some light here," ordered Owen, wincing when he saw the state of her face.

"Is she going to be all right?" queried Gwen, alarmed at her friend's grotesquely swollen features. Almost as if in answer to the question, Toshiko's eyelids fluttered and her one good eye opened lazily.

"Don't move and don't talk," said Owen immediately. "We're going to get you back to the Hub and you'll be right as rain in no time." Even as he was talking, he was running expert hands over her body, feeling the bruised and possibly broken ribs and sprained ankle. He held up three fingers in front of her eyes. "How many, Tosh?"

"Free," she murmured, unable to manage any more with a split lip.

"Good girl. No concussion," he said to Jack, "but we need to get her warm and these injuries seen to ASAP." He was returning his medical scanner to his pocket as he spoke.

"Okay." Jack carefully lay Toshiko's head down and stood up, taking off his greatcoat and draping it over her. "Gwen, can you lead us to the SUV?"

"Yeah, I've got the co-ordinates. It's about a mile west of here, over there." She pointed.

"Good." Jack took a few paces away from his colleagues and stood before an old and gnarled beech tree where lights flickered on and off. "Spirits, I thank you. We will leave you now."

The blue light appeared, glowing more brightly than ever and suddenly the entire wood was lit up as the small lights all shone at once, for several seconds, then gradually died away. The humans waited but no more lights appeared. Ianto hastily lit his lantern, holding it above Toshiko. Jack stooped and picked her up, holding her carefully but securely as Owen tucked the greatcoat around her. Then the doctor turned and followed Gwen who led the way back to the SUV.

Ianto took the rear position again and just before he left the clearing, turned and looked back to see the solitary blue light flickering on the beech tree. "Thank you," he murmured, pleased when the light glowed a little more brightly for a moment before disappearing. With a sigh, he turned and caught up with his colleagues. He had so many questions for Jack.


	55. Midsummer Night's Dream?

_This is set between the end of series 2 (after the deaths of Owen and Tosh) and before the Dr Who story, Stolen Earth. Not that it matters a gret deal, but just in case you'd like to know ..._

* * *

**Midsummer Night's Dream?**

"Go home, Ianto. You've been working too hard." Jack stood at the office doorway, arms folded across his chest. "A good night's sleep, that's what you need." His tone was brisk and no-nonsense yet caring.

"He's right, sweetheart," agreed Gwen from her desk. "Get away from here while you can." She smiled encouragingly. "A change of scene will help."

"I don't need help," protested Ianto. "I wish I'd never said anything now." He was trying to resist the twin pressure from his colleagues but it was hard. Maybe they were right.

"I'm glad you did. Shows I've been working you too hard," soothed Jack, coming to stand by his side. "Please, Ianto, for me?" The hand on the Welshman's shoulder was warm and comforting and Ianto's final defences crumbled.

"I've been working just as hard as him, do I get to go home too?" queried Gwen hopefully.

"You're not seeing things."

"Maybe I just haven't said anything." There was no missing the teasing tone in her voice. "There was a big scary monster, horrible it was with a bulbous head."

"That was Rhys after a night in the pub."

"Oy! Don't you talk about my husband like that!"

"You started it."

"No I didn't!"

As the banter continued to fly around, Ianto quietly packed up his things and got his jacket. They could joke about it but he couldn't. He WAS seeing things. Or so they said. So the scans proved. "I'm off then." He stood at the top of the steps watching Gwen attack Jack who had a hand on her head and was holding her well away from him.

Jack let go of Gwen and sidestepped, moving quickly to Ianto's side and pulling him against his body. "Be careful. I'll be round to check on you later." He kissed the Welshman, a normal kiss to show there was nothing to worry about, and released him.

"'Night, Ianto," called Gwen, back and her desk and smoothing her hair. "Sleep well."

"Goodnight."

The ten minute drive home was entirely without incident and Ianto completed it on autopilot. Inside the flat, he hung up his coat and put on his iPod to play a random selection of tracks. With this playing quietly in the background he went to the bedroom where he changed out of his suit into jeans and a sweater before going to the kitchen to make a mug of coffee. Relaxing on the sofa with his drink, Ianto closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. If he tried, perhaps he would be able to forget the last few days and his … visions.

It didn't work.

It had started four days' before when the three of them had been dealing with a couple of Weevils in Penarth. They'd overpowered and sedated them and were standing on the street discussing the cover story when Ianto, who had been facing Jack and Gwen, had seen an alien, about five foot tall and humanoid but with green skin and feathers where hair should be, watching them from the corner of a building a few metres away. The alien appeared to be hiding from them, or spying on them, because as soon as it realised it had been spotted it disappeared back round the corner. Ianto had raised the alarm and given chase but there was nothing there when he had rounded the corner. Jack had taken Ianto's sighting seriously and the three of them had searched and scanned the surrounding area for half an hour but found nothing.

Two days later it had happened again when Ianto was coming back from a supermarket run. He had halted at the top of the steps leading down to the boardwalk and the Tourist Office when he had spotted Jack standing at the railing looking out across the Bay. The wind was ruffling his hair and making his greatcoat billow out behind him and Ianto marvelled again that such a gorgeous man was interested in him. Then movement had caught his eye and Ianto had seen the selfsame alien crouched down behind a bench watching Jack. Ianto had run down the steps, right past Jack and got to the bench in seconds but when he arrived there was no trace of the alien. This time, Jack was less concerned but had condescended to scan the area quickly finding absolutely nothing.

The first jokes about Ianto seeing things had started then.

And today Ianto had had the third sighting of the alien, outside a Chinese restaurant. It had been standing watching Jack and Gwen through the front glass window as they were standing over a Hoix that had run amok inside. Ianto had attempted to creep up on the alien but had forgotten about the window; the alien had seen his reflection and dematerialised. Trying to explain this to Jack had just earnt him funny looks even when Ianto had likened the dematerialisation to Jack's own teleport. The Torchwood leader had done a perfunctory check and dismissed it. Back at the Hub he had insisted on checking Ianto over – and not in a good way – running tests to see if he was infected with some alien virus before deciding the visions were due to overwork and sending him home.

It was the logical conclusion, Ianto understood that, but it hurt him that he had not been believed. He considered the sightings - not visions, sightings - as just that and was concerned about what they meant. The alien had not attempted to harm them or even to approach them, just to watch. It had scarpered as soon as it had been spotted. But why was it watching them? What did it want?

With a sigh, Ianto stood up and took his empty coffee mug to the kitchen and rinsed it before setting it on the side to be washed up later. A root around in the cupboards produced a tin of baked beans and some stale bread which settled supper as beans on toast. Deciding it was too early to eat – he hadn't been home at this time for weeks – Ianto returned to the living room.

He stopped dead. Standing at the side of the TV was the alien!

"I mean harm none!" said the alien quickly holding up his hands in a universal gesture of peace. "I explain you."

"Who are you? How did you get in here and what do you want?" growled Ianto. His gun was on top of the chest of drawers in the bedroom along with his comms earpiece. But the mobile was on the side by the iPod. If he could get to it, he could call Jack. He edged that way.

"Gellopwiska, that I called. I transmat, Ianto Jones, to make sorrys."

"What?" Ianto stopped moving, sensing he was not in danger from this strange creature. If anything it was the alien that was scared.

"We talk? You no hurt Gellopwiska?" There was no denying the uncertainty in the alien's voice, a reedy falsetto. "I do wrong, be here. Not right. Be told off if found."

Ianto relaxed and smiled. "I won't hurt you. I just want to know what's going on."

Encouraged, the alien mirrored the smile exposing sharp pointed teeth which glinted in the light. "I explain. That word right?" It took two steps into the centre of the room and stood looking at Ianto curiously.

"Yes, that's the right word."

The alien's smile became a grin that split its face, the mouth literally going from ear to ear. "Gellopwiska data searcher. Find data and keep. Put together." There was no mistaking the pride in the alien's tone.

Ianto was intrigued. Of all the aliens he had met, none had ever been like this one. It almost sounded as if it was an archivist like himself. "What kind of data?"

"Happenings long gone. People."

Ianto sat on the arm of the sofa as he thought about this. "It sounds like you're an historian. Looking into events that happened a long time ago, at the people who shaped them."

"Right! Searcher." The pride was still evident and the weird grin was back in place. "Search Harkness."

"Jack Harkness?" Ianto was concerned.

Gellopwiska shook his head from side to side and beamed. "Yes. Man very strange."

"No he's not! He's not strange at all, who told you that!?" Ianto stood and advanced on the alien, glowering down at him. Gellopwiska scampered backwards until he was standing with his back to the wall and could go no further. "I'm sorry," continued Ianto, holding out a hand to the alien. Frightening him wouldn't get answers to his questions.

The alien stayed where he was as Ianto returned to his place sitting on the arm of the sofa. The feathers on Gellopwiska's head which had risen in alarm gradually settled back into their normal smoothness. "Also make sorrys." The alien crept forward a pace.

"Tell me about your search. Where are you from? Why are you interested in Jack?" Ianto was pleased when the alien visibly grew in confidence and took another pace forward back into the centre of the room.

"Gellopwiska from," and here made a series of sounds that Ianto could not hope to understand. "From later. See Harkness in data and choose search. Want know him." The alien's expression became pained. "Hard explain."

"You're doing very well. You're from my future and decided to look into Jack's life. Is that right?" Ianto thought that was what had been meant. And it didn't surprise him. Jack's life was - was going to be - unique and he understood perfectly that others would be interested in him.

Gellopwiska was shaking his head again to indicate his agreement. "Right. Harkness everywhen, hard get right. Want know, get data right for later."

This was sounding more and more like an archivist at work, thought Ianto. One with access to time travel but nonetheless an archivist like himself. "I know a bit about him," he volunteered. "Maybe I can help get your data right."

"Yes!" Gellopwiska jumped into the air in delight. "Need help."

The next hour was one of the strangest in Ianto's life. He and Gellopwiska sat facing one another and talked about Jack Harkness, correcting misconceptions that had crept into the records the alien had read. During the discussion, Ianto got some hints about Jack's future life but Gellopwiska refused to be drawn on these and appeared annoyed with himself for not protecting the timeline better.

"Thanks to Ianto Jones," said the alien suddenly, jumping up from his place sitting on the floor. "I go. Harkness come."

Taken by surprise, Ianto got up from his chair. "Stay and meet him. He'd like to meet you, I know he would." He really wanted Gellopwiska to stay to prove that his previous sightings had not been hallucinations; it irritated him to be disbelieved.

"No! Very wrong. Ianto Jones unremember now." The alien moved quickly and touched Ianto's face lightly then disappeared.

Ianto blinked wondering why he was standing in the middle of the living room. The music was playing softly behind him and he felt faint pangs of hunger. He was going to get supper, he remembered, and headed for the kitchen when the doorbell pealed out.

"Hey, Ianto, how are you feeling?" Jack stood on the doorstep beaming at his colleague. He bustled in and removed his coat, hanging it up untidily. "Thought if I came now I might get supper." He stood rubbing his hands in anticipation.

Ianto smiled. "Impeccable timing, I was just going to make it. Not that I've got much in. It'll be whatever's in the cupboards."

"Fine by me." The two men walked through the living room to the kitchen. "Seen any aliens lately?" teased Jack. He was not overly concerned but hoped Ianto would be back to normal soon.

"Are you counting the Hoix? And Janet? And those blue slimy things?" Ianto's tone was ironic and teasing. "They are seriously creeping me out, by the way, can't you get rid of them?"

"Top of my list," declared Jack with a genuine smile. His lover was back to normal.

The next day Earth was moved by the Daleks and no one ever again mentioned Ianto's sightings of a strange green alien.


	56. Caring for Toshiko

_Set after Meat and before Adam in the second series. My thanks to Orion Lyonesse for her advice when inspiration deserted me. She made this a much better story_

* * *

**Caring for Toshiko **

"Is she okay?"

"She's sleeping. She'll be all right but she needs watching." Owen looked at Jack, his face serious and with no trace of its usual quirky sarcasm. "The clout on the head set off a small bleed in her brain. I've stopped it and drained away the blood that had gathered." Alien tech was extremely useful in certain circumstances and Owen wondered how he had done without it before joining Torchwood. If it hadn't been available it would have meant hospital, opening the skull and all the possible complications. As it was, he had relieved the pressure and sealed the leak using a non-invasive technique that other doctors could only dream about. "There should be no lasting effects but she needs to be monitored."

"I'll stay with her," Jack stated.

"I can do it," put in Ianto and Gwen together.

"No arguments!" said Jack, holding up his hands. "You're both pretty bruised yourselves and need sleep. I don't, so I'm elected babysitter for Tosh. Owen, you go and get your head down on the couch. I'll call you if there's any change."

"If you're sure there's nothing we can do," said Gwen, looking from Jack to Owen. Both men indicated they were sure. "Okay. Share a cab, Ianto?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah good idea." He smiled at Jack and then followed Gwen out of the flat.

Owen rubbed his hands through his hair. "It's okay to let her sleep now. But if she wakes, check she knows who she is and where she is. And wake me if you're not sure of anything. In fact, wake me anyway."

"I will. Now, go and get some sleep." Jack pointedly watched the man leave the room and heard him shuffling about in the main living room.

Jack looked down at the sleeping Toshiko. She looked very small in the large bed and the bruises on her cheek and forehead were a livid blue and yellow against her pale skin. He gently pushed her hair back, pulled up an easy chair and settled into it. He moved the chair a bit so he could see her face better then picked up the book he'd found on her bedside table. He was surprised by her choice – _A Tale of Two Cities _– expecting her to prefer something modern or maybe technical. He frowned, realising yet again that he did not know much about his team. He opened the book and found the famous opening line: 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times ..' That could be said of any day at Torchwood. He carried on reading for a little but his mind was still racing with the events of the day.

An encounter with a visiting Ambriglian was the root cause of Toshiko's injury. Persuading it to leave had tied up Jack and Owen for hours – the alien was so slow! – which put the other three Torchwood operatives in the front line when a Cipazer had shown up in the St David's Centre. They'd subdued it and got it into the SUV but while moving it to the cells, it had broken free and Toshiko had been thrown violently against a wall. Gwen and Ianto had recaptured the creature and Toshiko had recovered but, several hours later, she'd collapsed at home while talking to Ianto. The team had rushed round and now she was in her own bed recovering from Owen's surgery.

Jack closed his eyes. If Ianto had not decided to check up on Toshiko at just that moment she could have died. He hated accidents like this one, they came out of nowhere and yet could have devastating effects. So many, he had lost so many good friends to stupid accidents. It was bad enough he was going to outlive everyone anyway but when they died unnecessarily young it just rubbed salt into the wound.

He shifted in the chair and looked across at Toshiko. This woman was such a special talent, so gifted and yet modest at the same time. Smiling, he remembered the look on her face when he had explained that the plans from which she had built the sonic modulator were flawed, that she had put them right as she went along. Such genuine shock. And she was strong. Very few survived UNIT's isolation treatment for months like she had without being affected mentally. And few people had taken to the pressures of working for Torchwood as well either. Look how she had come through the Brecon Beacons' debacle and her 'disappointment' with the alien, Mary. All that and yet she still doubted herself and never put forward suggestions except in her own field of expertise. With a more confident personality she would be invincible - and even more sexy. He checked on her again and pulled the sheets up under her chin. He couldn't imagine his team without her.

He picked up the book and started to read.

Toshiko opened her eyes slowly and lay still, checking her surroundings. She was in bed but she didn't remember getting there. Her head ached but not as much as it had done before. And someone – Jack – was sitting by her bed reading. What had happened? Feeling warm, she pushed back the covers.

"Tosh? How are you feeling?" asked Jack, the book discarded and beside her in a instant.

"Okay. What are you doing here? What happened?"

"You collapsed. You remember your name?" He chuckled at the disbelieving look she gave him. "Tell me anyway."

"Toshiko. And you're in my bedroom. We didn't …? A very faint pink tinge crept over her cheeks.

"No. I told you, you collapsed from that bump on the head earlier." Her eyes widened as she remembered.

"Had a headache."

"Not surprised. We should have checked you out more thoroughly." He took and squeezed her hand. "Sorry."

"Is she awake?" Owen had entered the room. He had not been able to sleep and had heard the others talking. "Tosh, do you know who you are? Where you are?" The doctor rudely shoved Jack to one side. He used his ophthalmoscope to check her eyes.

"We've done all that," said Jack, a bit peevishly.

"I'm all right," Toshiko protested weakly.

"I'll be the judge of that. Follow my finger." He moved it left to right in front of her and she obediently watched it. "I think you'll be okay."

"Maybe we should leave her to get some sleep," suggested Jack, standing to one side of Owen.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll be just outside, Tosh. You call if you need anything." He patted her arm and his hand slid into hers. He smiled at her reassuringly and did not move, just sat gazing at her.

"Okay." She smiled briefly at both men but her gaze lingered on Owen longest. He seemed gentler, more caring than she remembered him and he was holding her hand. It felt good. Her eyelids grew heavy and she let them close, dropping off to sleep and therefore not aware when Owen rearranged the covers over her.

"Come on." Jack ushered Owen out of the room, leaving the door ajar. "You need some sleep too," he told the doctor.

"I suppose." Owen sat on the couch heavily, his head in his hands. "I should have spotted this. Shouldn't have taken her word for it that she was all right."

Jack had gone to the side where a row of bottles stood and poured them both large measures of whisky. Handing one to Owen, he said, "Don't blame yourself. What's done is done. We caught it in time."

Owen downed half his drink. "We came so close to losing her." His voice was soft and filled with pain.

He had no idea when or why he had come to care for Toshiko. It might have been after surviving John Hart or the Sleeper cell. More likely it was after they'd sent Tommy Brockless back to 1918 when Toshiko had been so strong despite the pain it had caused her. Or her instinctive understanding and comfort when he – Owen – had had to put down the space whale might have been when it happened. Any one of those times, or maybe the accumulation of all of them, had made him appreciate Toshiko's special qualities. He didn't know what, if anything, he would do about the feelings he had for her he just knew they were there. He'd not expected to feel that way about anyone again, not after losing Katie, and yet Toshiko had wormed her way into his heart.

"I know." Jack put a sympathetic hand on Owen's shoulder. "We need to take better care of her."

"I intend to." Owen drained his glass. "You get off, Jack. I'll stay and look after her."

Jack regarded Owen for a long moment and nodded. The man was feeling guilty, that was obvious, but could there be something more? Owen had been drunk less and according to Gwen he wasn't indulging in so many one night stands. Could he finally be appreciating Toshiko? He hoped so. They could be good for one another. Jack shook himself; getting back together with Ianto was making him soft.

"Make sure you get some rest." The cover and pillows were on the couch but didn't look used. "Maybe I should tuck you up."

"Sod off." Owen bent down and removed his shoes. "Go on, Jack, get back to the Hub and keep Cardiff safe. I'll look after Tosh."

"I know you will." Jack rest a hand on the other man's shoulder then reached for his greatcoat. "Call me if you need me." He got a grunt in reply.

Toshiko woke again some hours later. It was light outside but obviously early and she lay for several minutes collecting her thoughts. She had been injured and Jack and Owen had been here and they'd told her what had happened but try as she might, she couldn't remember the details. She remembered the Cipazer running amok in the Hub and her falling but she'd been fine after that. She'd driven home and … That was where she had a blank. Had something attacked her here, at home? Had she been called out again? No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember. But there was a faint memory of Owen holding her hand; that must have been a dream.

Pressure in her bladder propelled her from the bed and she headed through the living room to the bathroom. Her need was great and she didn't stop to pull on her robe over her nakedness. She used the facilities and bent to splash water on her face.

"Tosh, you okay? If you're feeling sick it's … Oh!" Owen stopped at the open bathroom door, nonplussed by the sight of the naked Toshiko bending over the basin. "Sorry." He hastily turned round and went back into the living room.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, coming out into the living room, a bath towel wrapped round her. It covered her from under the arms to just above the knee. She dragged back the window blind to let in more light, grabbing at her towel when it threatened to slip.

"I stayed last night. Jack was here too, for a bit. We … I wanted to make sure you were all right." Owen stood in the middle of the room. "I heard the loo flush. Thought you might need me."

"Well I didn't!"

"I see that. Realise that," he amended hastily. The sight of Toshiko's nude body was one he would long remember. He shifted uncomfortably, turning to shield his arousal from her, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt to cover the front of his boxers. "Head injuries can leave you feeling sick. I thought that was … well, I …"

"Head injuries? Owen, what happened last night? I remember getting home then nothing until I woke up and Jack was there, and then you." She moved closer to the doctor unaware of the affect her nearness was having on him.

"You had a bleed … Look, why don't you go back to bed. I'll get my jeans on and then we can talk."

Her eyes dropped from his face and noticed his bare legs for the first time. She also saw how he was standing and stifled a grin. He had a hard-on, there was no mistaking the signs. The sight of her had made him hard. "I'll get dressed too. Won't be long." With an impish smile, she went into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. Only when she was inside did she realise the opportunity that had slipped through her fingers; if she'd played it right, she could have got him into bed.

Ten minutes later both were dressed and in the kitchen. Owen was making coffee and toast while Toshiko sat on a stool at the breakfast bar with a bowl of fruit and yoghurt in front of her. They had spoken only about the events of the previous night and the meal, feeling more self-conscious now they were dressed than when they had been half naked. Owen brought the cafetiere to the bar and sat opposite Toshiko, reaching for his toast and taking a large bite. They ate in continued silence and Toshiko wondered whether to turn on some music but didn't, pouring the coffee instead.

"I think you ought to stay home today," said Owen. "It's good you feel okay but head injuries are funny things. Better to be safe."

"Maybe." She much preferred being in the Hub than at home. The lingering memories of her one night with Tommy Brockless crowded in on her when she was alone here. "Wouldn't it be better if I was with you? I mean," she added hastily when she saw his surprised expression, "you're the doctor and I'd need you if I felt ill."

Owen did not reply, chewing on his mouthful of toast. That had sounded rather demanding and he naturally shied away from women who wanted too much of him too soon. Was she reading too much into his care of her? He may be growing to appreciate her more than in the past but he was not about to be bounced into a relationship. In fact, the more a woman came on to him the faster he ran in the opposite direction, especially after his experience with Katie. Why set himself up for more pain? With dread he realised Toshiko might have seen his physical reaction to her earlier and taken that as a green light to change the nature of their relationship. He didn't want that, didn't want to lose her as a friend when his feelings towards her were so unsure. Besides, they had to work together. His relationship with Gwen - and Suzie before that - had ended reasonably well but there had been sticky moments when working with them afterwards. Owen was honest enough to realise that it was their level-headedness that had made it possible to work together at all. Would Toshiko be as forgiving? Possibly not and if it came to a choice, Jack would keep her on the team not Owen.

"Owen, are you okay?" asked Toshiko when the man had said nothing for some minutes.

"Just thinking. It's up to you whether you come in or not. I guess it would be okay, as long as you stayed in the Hub." He shrugged and sounded as off-hand as he could manage, trying to be as normal as possible.

"Right."

She got the message and concentrated on her breakfast. Whatever she had imagined he felt for her was just that, imagination. Owen didn't care for her. He was a doctor caring for a patient and his arousal had been automatic; he'd have had the same reaction to any naked woman. She had to stop mistaking friendship for something it was not and never could be.

Half an hour later, after checking in with Jack, Owen was on his way home to shower and change. Toshiko pottered about the flat, tidying away the cover and pillows Owen had used, before putting on her makeup and heading in to work. It was the start of a work day and neither was prepared to embarrass themselves by expressing their feelings openly. After all, it was just the start of another ordinary day at Torchwood, wasn't it?


	57. Busy Doing Nothing

**Busy Doing Nothing**

It was strange being in the Hub with nothing to do. Toshiko spent sixteen hours of almost every day here, usually at her desk unless she was out capturing a Weevil or a Hoix or a Blowfish or fighting off a more serious alien danger. There was always something for her to do. A translation perhaps or examining an artefact or piece of technology. When all else failed, she upgraded existing software or installed new hardware or sorted out Owen's messes. Only once before had she been at a total loose end, one wet Sunday afternoon in October, and she'd filled the time by painting a dragon on the wall. Up there.

She climbed up to the walkway outside the Boardroom, standing beside the painting. The colours had stood up well to the damp of the Hub and all the details she had included still showed proudly. It wasn't a traditional Japanese dragon nor was it the symbolic dragon of Wales, it was a pleasing mix of the two as befitted her residence in the Principality. She'd been living in Cardiff for over two years and liked it, just as she liked her job. When she had something to do.

With a little sigh, she leant on the railing and looked down into the Hub. The vast space was dominated by the water tower which rose out of the ground in front of her and disappeared upwards. At its foot was the pool full of mucky water with - she strained her eyes to see - a yellow, plastic duck floating bravely on it. That was a relic of Owen and Gwen's bet but it wouldn't be there long, Ianto would spot it and tidy it away with all the other detritus of Torchwood's daily life. Raising her eyes, she looked at the work area and the frantic activity going on there and sighed again.

She wished she could help.

-ooOoo-

"I won't believe it!" ground out Jack between his teeth. "There has to be a way!" He was pacing up and down the work area, pausing only to peer over the shoulders of Owen and Ianto who were at the desks, tapping at keyboards running standard scans and simulations as well as checking out Jack's latest ideas.

Gwen, standing outside the office close to Owen's desk, took a deep breath and counted to five before speaking. "If there was a way we'd have found it by now," she began reasonably. "I'm sorry too, Jack, 'cos I am, but we can't look forever."

"Don't see you doing much of anything!" accused Owen. He glared at her then went back to his typing.

"How's that baryonic sweep coming?" asked Jack, standing behind Ianto. "That should work."

"Nothing so far." Ianto's voice was calm as always but his expression was bleak; it had been over six hours and they were no nearer a solution. The longer it went on the less chance they had of success. "I'm increasing to 400 cycles."

"Good."

Jack resumed pacing, his head bent as he went over and over all that had happened and considered how to put it right. There had to be solution, he just had to think. He hit the side of his head with the heel of his hand. Once, twice, three times, trying to force his brain to find the answer. Hands grasped his arm and stopped him hitting himself a fourth time. He looked into Gwen's face which showed as much sign of stress as the rest of them.

"Don't, Jack, you'll hurt yourself." She released his arm. "Let's go over it again, see if we can work it out together," she added trying to mask the sigh in her voice but not quite succeeding.

He ignored the sigh and smiled at her. "We'll look at the CCTV. There must be a clue." They went into the office.

-ooOoo-

Toshiko had moved to the rest area, preferring to be up on the walkways away from the rest of the team who were so busy below her. The note showing their Space Invaders scores had changed. Ianto, she decided, only he would bother to write them out tidily on a new Post-it but, she noted with a smile, he had still included Suzie's score. Toshiko never played much so was not surprised to see her name at the bottom of the list. Owen had dragged her up here one evening when they were working late, covering when Jack took a rare evening off, and forced her to take a turn. He hadn't wanted her to do too well – he was jealous of his place at the top of the list – and had watched anxiously as she worked her way through the levels. It wasn't a difficult game, not given the job they did, but she had recognised his concern and made sure she didn't beat him. She still remembered the smile he had given her.

She sat and read a magazine, one of Gwen's, which was open on the table. It was full of celebrity gossip and Toshiko was alarmed at how quickly she became interested in the activities of people she didn't know. The paparazzi photographs and mindless speculation of the gossip columnists were a far cry from _Nature,_ her usual reading where she kept abreast of the latest scientific findings. She stood up, restless once more, and slowly walked down the stairs. Time was hanging heavy now and she was getting more bored with every minute that passed.

The water in the pool was even more mucky close up. There was a scum on the top, similar to the residue left by petrol on a wet road, and a ballpoint pen refill was caught up in some fine netting next to the plastic duck. Was it always like this? Perhaps. She never usually had time to look, always rushing past on an errand or reacting to an emergency. Her examination continued and she saw some coins at the bottom of the pool. Thrown in or dropped accidentally? The latter probably, none of the team was prone to making wishes especially in this stagnant pool. It could have been Jack, of course, he might have been seeing how far he could throw a coin. That would be like him. She looked over at the office where he paced while Gwen sat at his PC. It should have been her in there with him, not Gwen.

Toshiko wished she could help.

-ooOoo-

"Nothing," reported Gwen, looking up from the screen. "There's nothing in the CCTV that will help us. She just disappears."

Jack stopped his pacing, left hand arrested where he had been running it through his hair. "Damn," he said quietly and let his arm fall. "I really thought …"

"I'm sorry." Gwen bit her lip and wisely decided to say no more.

Jack suddenly looked haggard and sank into a chair, holding his head in his hands. "Do we stop? Give up?" he asked, voice muffled.

"I don't know what else we can do." It wasn't really an answer but Gwen didn't want to be the one who called off the search. That was a decision that only Jack could make, a burden only he would have to bear. She stood up and walked round the desk, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we should take a break. Get something to eat, a coffee. Not thinking about … the problem might help."

"Yeah, you're right." He sat up, squaring his shoulders and looked up at her determination in every feature. "I'm not giving up."

"No, just taking a break." She smiled at him and followed when he walked out into the work area.

"Take five, both of you," he said to Owen and Ianto. "We've been at this for hours and we all need a break. Ianto, any chance of a coffee? And something to eat?" He managed a smile for the young man.

"There's bread and cheese. Some bacon too. I could make some sandwiches." Ianto tried to smile but found it hard, he was too worried.

"We'll do that, won't we, Owen?" said Gwen with false cheeriness. "You do the coffee, Ianto. Jack, cheese or bacon?"

"Cheese. Thanks."

"Why do I have to help?" grumbled Owen, pushing himself up. He was stiff after sitting in an awkward position for so long.

"Because I said so! Come on." Gwen strode off, Owen trailing behind and still grumbling.

Jack sat on the sofa, rubbing at his face. Ianto stayed where he was; he had time to do another baryonic sweep – he was up to 700 cycles – before making the coffee. He checked the parameters and clicked on 'activate'. A creeping green line advanced infinitely slowly along the scale showing progress. Ten per cent. Twenty and then thirty. Still no response. Gwen appeared with a tray and the cheese sandwiches, Ianto's cue to make the coffee. He left the desk and walked down past the water tower to the coffee machine in the corner, his favourite of the three in the Hub.

As he skirted the pool a loud buzzer sounded to which they all reacted. Jack stood up and went immediately to the PC, checking the readout. Gwen dumped the tray on the coffee table and joined him. Owen stuck his head out of the kitchen and asked, "Got something?" And Ianto saw a wavering, faint outline of Toshiko flicker into sight by the pool.

"Tosh!" he yelled, reaching for her but his hands met thin air as the outline wavered and disappeared. "She was here!" he called over to Jack and Gwen. "I saw her!"

"I'm upping to a thousand cycles," shouted Jack, hope back in his voice and bearing. "Step back but keep your eye on where you saw her." He made the adjustment and clicked on the button, grabbed the chronoton transducer and ran down the steps to stand at the foot of the water tower. Gwen and Owen were already there, all thoughts of food and drink forgotten.

"Tosh, if you can hear us," said Ianto, "stand still. We'll get you back." He had retreated a few paces but was still the closest to the spot where her ghostly presence had been.

The four of them stood in silence as the sweep went through its pre-programmed routine once more. They were all tense, hoping this would bring Toshiko back to them. None of them had quite given up hope but as the hours had passed doubts had assailed them all in varying degrees. The buzzer sounded again, startling them. Ianto concentrated his gaze on the spot where he had seen Toshiko and … she was there! More substantial this time but she was still not wholly with them. He took a pace towards her.

"Stay back!" commanded Jack. He approached Toshiko, using the transducer to combat the time dispersal matrix surrounding her. When he got the reading he wanted, he reached a hand towards her. "Come back to us, Tosh."

-ooOoo-

She reached out a hand to Jack, eager to be back with him and the rest of the team.

His hand appeared less substantial than her own, a result of the time bubble that had enveloped her and kept her out of sync with them. She had had to keep away from them. Interacting with their reality had increased the distance between them; she was now seventeen seconds out of sync when it had only been one. Not that it made a great difference but she knew that if it increased to minutes or hours she would never be able to get back. And so she had kept away from the work area and office where they were working, wandering the other areas of the Hub on her own. Lonely, scared and bored.

Her hand was lying in Jack's but she could not feel it, just see her small one in his larger one. Then a sudden warmth, a firm grasp and she was being pulled out of her bubble and into his embrace.

She was not alone any more.

-ooOoo-

"Got you!" exclaimed Jack, holding Toshiko close as he stepped backwards. He was grinning, delighted his perseverance had paid off and she was back with them. He brushed a kiss to the top of her head as the others crowded round. "You gave me a fright. Don't you ever do anything like that again!"

"I won't, I promise." She stayed in his arms, welcoming the physical contact after so long spent on her own.

After a couple of minutes, Jack released her. "You were playing with time, weren't you?" he said sternly. "I've warned you about that."

"I know. I'm sorry." She hung her head.

"Don't be daft," interjected Gwen. "You're back, that's all that matters." She hugged Toshiko.

"We missed you," added Ianto, placing a hand on her shoulder.

A high-pitched continuous alarm sounded, cutting across anything he might have added. Jack looked up from where he was neutralising the time dispersal matrix. Gwen raced back to the work area to check the read-outs, Toshiko on her heels.

Ianto recognised the sound and looked accusingly at Owen. "Did you leave the bacon cooking?" he shouted, hands on hips.

"Oops." The doctor hared off to the kitchen. Ianto strode after him, his face like thunder. The smoke alarm continued to sound.

In the work area, Toshiko laughed though she couldn't hear herself above the earsplitting noise. It was good to be back.


	58. It's A Mug's Game

_This is rather a strange idea that came from nowhere. Not totally sure it makes sense, let me know._

**

* * *

****It's a Mug's Game**

"He's coming." Blue nudged his neighbour to emphasise his point.

"I can see. For gawd's sake, stop pushing me!"

"Someone got out of the washer the wrong side this morning," remarked Hearts, sarcasm oozing from every syllable. "These late nights are starting to tell."

"Will you all just shut up?" Silvy snapped.

"Has he been putting that nasty smelly stuff in you again, Silvy? Is that why you're so cross?" asked Blue. "I never have that stuff in me," he went on proudly.

"Where's He going?" asked timid Jazz in a plaintive wail. There was a shocked silence from Silvy, Hearts and Jazz as they watched as The Man changed course and walked away from them.

Blue also watched but he was confident The Man would be back. He always came back for him. "He's going to get Spot."

"Do you think so?" queried Jazz, shuffling closer to their leader, Blue.

"Of course."

"That Spot gets all the best treatment," grumbled Silvy. "Hand wash and everything. It's not fair."

"Are you jealous?" sneered Hearts. "Thought you were the big, butch type that could take anything."

"I can! Just don't see why Spot should get special handling."

"Because he is special. That's right, isn't it, Blue?" said Jazz, snuggling up. "Tell us the story."

"For Pete's sake, we don't want to hear that again!" complained Silvy.

"Well I do," said Hearts. "Tell us, Blue."

"All right, I think there's time," replied Blue ignoring Silvy's grumblings. "One night, not too long ago, The Man was the only one here. It was after those days when we had been left all alone and He came back with dirty marks on him that didn't wash off for ages. That night I was in the glass place and could see Him clearly. He was very sad and didn't come to collect me. He ignored me." There was a sharp intake of breath as The Man never ignored them. "He didn't perform the ritual, just sat over there and did nothing. Then my man," there was real pride in Blue's tone, "came in and sat with him. They stayed there a long time -"

"Did they go pink and make those funny noises?" asked Jazz, even though this was an old story that had been told many times before.

"No, not that night. That only happens when The Man is happy. They stayed over there for a long time and The Man got a bit happier but not much. Then my man took out a box and gave it to The Man."

"It was Spot," squealed Hearts, unable to stay quiet any longer.

"That's right," agreed Blue, he was older than his friends and was used to their interruptions. "The Man opened the box and took out Spot. And he was happy again."

"Ahh," sighed Jazz, "I love that story."

"And ever since, The Man has taken special care of Spot because he was given to Him by my man," concluded Blue.

They were quiet for a moment or two, remembering that night, happy that one of their friends was so well loved by The Man who meant so much to them. A clatter from nearby made them look up and they saw The Man approaching, Spot in his hand.

"Let's play a joke on him," suggested Silvy, shuffling forward. "Get behind me, Blue. Hearts, get up here and help hide him. It'll make The Man happy when he finds Blue."

They jostled around and soon Blue was hidden by his friends and the whites, those unfortunates of their kind who didn't have owners. The Man approached and placed Spot at the front by Jazz before starting the ritual.

"Hiya, everyone," called Spot loudly. He was young and was usually rather loud which no one minded except Silvy.

"Pipe down, you. It's time for the ritual."

"Sorry." Spot wasn't abashed at all. He looked around then did another scan of the area. "Where's Blue?" he asked concerned. "He wasn't in the bath with me. Has he … has he …" Spot couldn't continue, too overcome with emotion about what might have happened to his very close friend.

"It's all right, he's hiding," whispered Jazz. "It's a joke."

Spot sighed with relief; he may be young but he'd seen too many friends fall to their doom. "That's all right then." He looked more closely behind the whites and spotted Blue hiding there.

"It's nearly time," said Silvy, watching The Man perform the ritual and following every familiar action. "He'll be wanting us soon."

"And he won't be able to find Blue," giggled Hearts.

The others joined in the laughter and The Man looked up startled, putting a hand out to steady Spot and his friends. And then the ritual was complete and He took Silvy and held him in place, followed by Hearts and Jazz. They held their breath as The Man reached for … He couldn't find Blue! They giggled some more being careful not to move too much and make a mess. The Man took Spot instead and held him in place before putting him down by Hearts. Would The Man find Blue? They held their breath as he searched and searched. Then … He had Blue and soon all the friends were together again.

-ooOoo-

Walking to the work area, Ianto handed Gwen her mug with the large red hearts before giving Owen his silver insulated one. Toshiko took her own black and white mug with jazzy stripes. Lastly, Ianto took his multi-coloured spotty mug, an unexpected present from Jack. The large blue and white striped mug stayed on the tray a moment or two longer until Jack came out of the office and took it, sipping gratefully.

"And who's been moving the mugs around?" demanded Ianto. "I had to search for Jack's." His team mates protested their innocence and Ianto never found out what had happened.

But you know …

* * *

_I did say it was a bit odd ..._


	59. Crystal Clear

_It came to me that there's one part of the Hub that Ianto never cleans and decided there had to be a reason. Set very early season one._

* * *

**Crystal Clear**

Gwen sat at her desk, alone in the Hub for only the second time since she had joined a month before. The machinery hummed and clicked around her and high above the Pteranodon wheeled and cawed on its way back to the nest. Nearby, the water ran down the tower and the overflow pool at its foot rippled, sending refracted light across the walls. It was peaceful and Gwen realised that she no longer felt a stranger here. It had taken a while to fit in – and she had made some dreadful mistakes - but she felt she was now part of the team.

Humming softly to herself, she continued writing her report on the latest Weevil sighting. As soon as it was done she was going home to Rhys unless … Owen had asked her out for a drink and she was tempted. He was good fun and Rhys had been irritating just lately, going on and on about how much he wanted to change his job too. Hearing about his search for just the right post was driving her up the wall. Besides, she missed nights out after work. She had just decided to call Owen and see if a drink was still on, when Ianto ghosted across the Hub towards her.

"Still here?" she asked. He always seemed to be here, moving around the place doing his duties but not impinging on the rest of them much. He did all the backroom stuff, only going out of the Hub to clear up bodies. As no one else took much notice of him, neither did Gwen.

"It's a good time to clean up," he replied, smiling at her. "Especially the work area. Would you like a coffee?"

She hesitated. It would take another ten minutes or so to finish the report when she would be able to leave. She didn't need a drink but Ianto's coffee was exceptional. "Yes, please." She smiled at him and he put down his bucket and washcloths and went off to machine.

A quick call to Owen found him still at home getting ready for his night out and they arranged to meet at a pub they both liked in half an hour. She was back typing the report when Ianto placed a mug on her desk, picked up his cleaning things and went into Jack's office. The report done, Gwen sat and read it through, coffee mug cradled in her hands, and decided it would do. She emailed it to Jack and closed down the PC.

"All done?" asked Ianto, standing by Owen's desk. He had removed his jacket and looked more dishevelled than Gwen had ever seen him. He was normally immaculate in his buttoned up suits.

"Yes. Just finishing the coffee," she added, indicating the mug. "It's really good."

"I aim to please." Ianto began to remove empty drink cans and stray food wrappers from Owen's desk, his face a picture of disgust.

"Don't you get tired of cleaning up after us?" asked Gwen.

"No, it's my job." He looked across at her enquiringly. "Are you tired of yours already?"

"No!" she protested, not sure how the conversation had taken this turn. "I just thought that cleaning is a bit demeaning, that's all."

"Demeaning?"

"Ah, well, no, err …," she floundered feeling out of her depth. "I didn't mean it like that. Just that it's a bit … routine." She pounced on the last word like a drowning man who spotted a life raft after hours in the sea.

"I see." Ianto smiled at her, deciding there was no need to tease her any more. He'd unsettled her enough to ensure she left soon and then he'd be free to visit Lisa.

"Yes." Gwen gulped down the last of the coffee, which really was good, and reached for her bag. "I'll be off then."

"Have a good evening. You two doing anything tonight?"

"Me two? I mean, us two? What two?" Had he heard her making plans with Owen?

"You and your boyfriend. Sorry, I don't know his name." Ianto looked at her curiously wondering why she was so flustered.

"Rhys, his name is Rhys. And no, not tonight." Gwen relaxed and checked she had everything, including the handgun she now carried everywhere. With the bag on her shoulder, she walked up the steps, between Jack's office and Owen's desk where Ianto was picking up rubbish from the floor. "Ianto, there was something I wanted to ask you."

"Oh yes?" He glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Umm. You make such a great job cleaning up after us, I wondered why you never cleaned the walls of Jack's office. The glass ones, I mean. They're really mucky." She ran her finger down one of the glass panes and it came away sticky as well as dirty.

Ianto leant back against the desk and surveyed the office, his head tilted to one side and arms folded across his chest. "I did, when I first got here, but no one noticed so I've not done them since."

"A kind of protest?" she asked, smiling.

"Yes." He returned her smile and went back to collecting the rubbish from under Owen's desk.

Gwen continued to smile, feeling she had made a connection with her fellow countryman. An incoming text informed her Owen was on his way to the pub so she stirred herself and went to the coatrack. With her jacket on and her bag on her shoulder again, she stood at the top of the steps. "Good night, then."

"Good night."

Ianto watched Gwen leave. Had he given away too much? Like the rest of them, she had been ignoring him, taking him for granted, which was the way he liked it. It suited his purposes to stay in the background. Now he had drawn attention to himself and Gwen was a good investigator who might decide to follow up that one opening. He would have to be on his guard with her. However, he was glad someone else now understood why the walls of the office would remain a mess of streaks and smears.

* * *

_Like it? Please let me know._


	60. Easy Listening

_Ianto shows yet another hidden talent ... (My thanks to Orion Lyonesse for the original idea for this story.)_

**

* * *

****Easy Listening**

"You got something to tell me, Ianto?" asked Jack standing at the door to the office leaning against the doorframe.

The Welshman looked up quizzically after placing Toshiko's coffee on her desk. "No, I don't think so." He moved on to hand Owen his mug.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes." Ianto frowned as the blue and white striped mug was transferred from his hands to Jack's.

"What you on about, Harkness?" Owen had spun round in his chair and was looking from one to the other of them. "Spit it out."

"You really want him to do that?" Gwen had walked over from her desk to stand by the office, cradling her coffee mug in her cupped hands. "You know what these two get up to, might be something we don't want to know."

"It's in the paper, Owen," said Jack conversationally, ignoring Ianto who had retreated to stand at the entrance to the medical bay, still frowning.

"Gawd, you been doing it in public now?" complained Owen in disgust.

"Oh." Ianto's voice was soft and his expression cleared as comprehension dawned. "That."

"Yes, that." Jack looked at him with eyebrows raised. "When were you going to share this tidbit of information?"

"Actually, I wasn't."

"And why is that?" Jack demanded.

As she listened to the conversation, Toshiko turned to her PC and tapped a few keys. Her face changed from consternation to happiness as she smiled brightly. "Congratulations, Ianto! I knew you'd win."

"Win what?" Gwen was moving to look over Toshiko's shoulder.

"You mean to tell me Teaboy's won something?" laughed Owen. "What could he possibly win?"

"That's not fair," drawled Jack, taking a couple of steps closer to the Welshman. "He could be the best dressed man in Cardiff." He reached out and stroked the lapel of the other man's suit jacket. "Or king of the coffee baristas, he'd definitely win that."

Ianto grinned at Jack's suggestions and removed his boss's hand where it had moved to squeeze, and then rest on, his arse.

"Yay, well done, Ianto!" exclaimed Gwen after reading the online edition of the _South Wales Echo_. She bounded over and gave him a brief hug.

Owen rolled his eyes. "Will someone please tell me what's going on!"

"Ianto is the best new DJ in Cardiff," reported Toshiko. "You know, from last week," she clarified.

-ooOoo-

_The week before_

The radio in the SUV was capable of receiving transmissions on all known wavelengths and hundreds of others not dreamt of by man. It could track the source of those transmissions back to their origin, whether they were in the city of Cardiff, the UK or thousands of light years beyond the Milky Way. Late this Thursday evening it was tuned to Red Dragon FM, a local station, and in particular to a two hour slot running from ten to midnight which had been given over to new radio talent. Each evening, a local had been given the opportunity to play his or her own choice of music to the listening city and to live their dream of radio stardom.

"_And now, Old Blue Eyes with his arrangement of a classic dedicated to Jack from his work colleagues."_ The soft rumble of the presenter's voice receded and the first strains of _You Make Me Feel So Young_ issued from the speakers.

"Nice one," came from the back seat with an accompanying chuckle. Owen Harper slouched down even further in his seat, arms folded across his chest as he listened.

"Shhh," hissed Jack Harkness, sitting in the driver's seat with his eyes half closed as he beat time to the music on the steering wheel and mouthed the words. He was enjoying the selection of classic love songs almost as much as the sultry tones of the presenter.

Gwen Cooper, sitting half turned in the front passenger seat exchanged an amused glance with Owen. "This is one of my nan's favourites," she said quietly still smiling. "Must be a generation thing."

Jack ignored her, reached out and turned the radio up a notch and then settled back in his seat humming along to the song. His companions stayed silent. It was almost time for action and they were enjoying the quiet moment. Gwen checked her handheld PDA ensuring it was tuned to the correct wavelength. When the moment came there would not be time to waste. She rested her head on the seat as the song came to an end.

"_Well, lovers all over the city, this is your time. Make your partner know how much you love them this Thursday evening by calling me, Ianto Jones, with a dedication for your loved one. Just call 029 2094 9494, text 80974 or use the website. And here's one from Rhys Williams of Riverside for his fiancée, Gwen, who is working tonight. Rhys is missing you, Gwen, and hopes you will be home soon. And for you, we have this from Whitney Houston. The title says it all, Gwen."_ The music changed to _I Will Always Love You_.

"Rhys the romantic," said Jack, grinning broadly, "isn't that sweet?"

"Ianto made it up," protested Gwen, sitting upright and staring furiously at the radio. "I'll get him for that."

"He said he didn't have to, had loads of people ringing in," pointed out Owen. They had spoken to Ianto just before he began the show, forty minutes ago. "Must be more fools out there than I thought."

"You not sent one in then?" asked Jack as Gwen's mobile rang.

"No I bleeding haven't."

The two men listened to Gwen's one sided phone conversation. It was obviously Rhys on the other end, checking to see if she was tuned in to the radio. They were giggling like schoolboys at Gwen's attempts to sound pleased at the dedication while scowling at them both.

"All right, you've had your fun," stated Gwen, putting the mobile away. "Silly bugger thought it would be funny as he knew we were listening."

Jack cocked his head on one side and gazed at her. "And how does he know that, Gwen?"

"Because I told him." She met his gaze fearlessly. "He worries about me when I'm out late, so I told him this was an easy one."

"I'm going to be sick," came from Owen. The others ignored him.

"Let's hope it is," said Jack, finally looking away. "Tosh, you still there?" he asked into the comms.

"_Uh-huh. I think it's nice of Rhys,"_ she said from her seat in the radio station's technical booth.

"Thanks, Tosh." Gwen's expression was smug as she checked the PDA again.

"Anything on the Syssess?" asked Jack.

"_Not so far. I've been transmitting the signal, piggybacking on Ianto's show as agreed. He's good, isn't he?" _

Jack smiled but did not reply. It had been his suggestion that Ianto take the role of DJ for the evening, sure that those lovely Welsh vowels would resonate over the airwaves. And he had been right. Ianto's voice, slightly deeper than his normal speaking voice, was like strong liquid coffee and very sexy. Toshiko Sato was the station's engineer, the team having arranged for the normal guy to be ill with stomach troubles, and was using the equipment to hide the recall signal.

The song came to end. _"This next song is Lady in Red by Chris De Burgh and it's been requested by Bunnikins for Pussy-Wussy."_ Ianto's tone was neutral but to those who knew him well the distaste was evident. Jack laughed and Gwen grinned widely.

"Saddos," was Owen's pithy comment.

"Whatever rocks your boat," was Jack's laconic comment.

He glanced at the dashboard clock: 22.48. The Syssess should have heard the signal by now. It had been hanging around Cardiff for the past couple of weeks, not doing any harm but frightening unwary citizens who had seen it. It was its bad luck that it looked ghastly to human eyes. Seeing the luminous skeletal body that resembled a cockroach - but half a metre long - hovering at eye level was enough to make the strongest man run, especially as it was nocturnal and appeared out of the gloom. And yet it was completely harmless, a lost soul trying to find its way home but unable to make anyone understand. It had taken the Torchwood team a while to realise what the nightly reports of strange insect life represented and to come up with a plan to attract it. The signal now being transmitted would bring it to them where they'd be able to take it into custody and return it to the colony at the Afan Argoed Country Park between Neath and Maesteg.

Ianto's voice came from the radio again._ "And now two Cole Porter songs sung by the great Ella Fitzgerald. We'll begin, appropriately enough, with Begin the Beguine which will be followed by Let's Do It. These are dedicated to Sarah from Ryan, Peter from Jill, John from Scott and Stacey from Gavin. Enjoy."_

"So he played them after all," commented Gwen, hitting Jack lightly on the arm. "Your favourites." Jack had been pestering Ianto all day to include the songs.

"Great songs and a wonderful singer," he agreed with a smile, listening dreamily. "So many memories, so many."

"Gawd, he remembers them when they were in the top twenty!" Owen knew how to spoil the moment.

"And what's wrong with that?" Jack had twisted in his seat to glare at Owen behind him when Gwen sprang into life.

"It's here!" She was reading the PDA screen while opening the car door. "Ten metres that way."

She hared off, Jack and Owen scrambling to catch up. They were holding the large containment box between them and left the SUV doors open so could hear Ella's velvet tones all the way to the side of the car park where half a dozen cars awaited their owners, the unlucky workers in the Red Dragon Centre. Gwen was standing transfixed staring at the Syssess which hovered in front of her, a look of horror on her face; pictures did not prepare one for the reality. Owen also halted, mouth hanging open, until Jack's continuing momentum on the other side of the containment box pulled him forward once more.

"Quick," shouted Jack, getting into position. "Gwen, stay put."

The Syssess was trying desperately to communicate with her, the only human who had not – so far – run away from it. For her part, Gwen couldn't have moved if ordered to, she was revolted and fascinated in equal parts. With the creature stationary, Jack threw a net over it and, with Owen's help, brought it down to the containment box. They wrestled with the Syssess as it realised what was happening until finally getting it inside and securing the lid.

"Bloody ugly thing," said Owen, sitting on the box.

Gwen shivered and came out of her immobility. "No wonder people thought it was a monster. It's horrible."

"_Do you have it?"_ came from Tosh over the comms. She had been listening to some of the exchanges.

"Yes, you can stop the signal now. We'll get it back to the Hub while you and Chris Evans keep playing music to smooch to," he added with a grin.

"_Oy!"_ protested Ianto, able to listen in while the records played. _"More like an upmarket Chris Moyles, if you don't mind." _

Jack laughed as he walked back to the SUV leaving the others to heft the containment box between them. "We'll have to see what your listeners say to that. You might come bottom." Votes were being cast for each novice DJ and would be totalled up at the end of the week.

"_Impossible. Oh, gotta go." _The record was about to end.

-ooOoo-

_The present_

It was late and Jack was in the office working through some reports. The rest of the team had been gone an hour or so and the place was quiet until the internal comms system crackled into life and the strains of _Mona Lisa_ sung by the unmistakable voice of Nat King Cole flowed into and around the Hub. It was a beautiful sound and Jack smiled until he recalled that he was the only person there and had not put it on. Rising from his chair, ready to investigate, he halted when he heard …

"_Sit back and relax while we listen to some golden oldies."_ The music swelled once more.

Settling back in his chair, Jack abandoned the paperwork and leant back, feet on the desk. Those Welsh vowels were also unmistakable; it seemed Ianto, Red Dragon FM's most popular new DJ, was giving a private show. Over the next half an hour more classic songs and a few new ones filled the Hub. The one-person audience closed his eyes and listened with a smile on his face, enjoying the music almost as much as the DJ's links. His particular favourites appeared: _Unchained Melody_ by the Righteous Brothers, giving rise to images of Ianto and him at a potter's wheel; _You're the Inspiration_ by Chicago; _The Power of Love_ by Jennifer Rush; _My Way_ by Frank Sinatra; and the final track, _Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye_ by Ella Fitzgerald.

As the strains of the song died away, Jack felt a stirring in the air and opened his eyes to see Ianto standing by the side of the chair wearing nothing but a smile and a spotted bow tie. The Welshman pushed Jack's feet off the desk and straddled him.

"You're wearing too many clothes," Ianto said huskily as he pushed the braces off Jack's shoulders.

"Easily rectified." Jack's hand were roaming over the other man's bare back and gently pulled him close for a deep kiss which led to much, much more.

* * *

_I'm closing this collection of short stories here. As and when I have any more, I'll post them under another title. Many thanks for reading and reviewing - Jay._


End file.
